if you are only willing to listen.”

~ Jimmy Buffett

One

Jade French stepped from the cab transfixed by the tangled mass of vines that nearly obliterated the ho...

The cab, driven by the same man as yesterday pulled into the yard at 8:04 a.m. Mari pecked Jade on the cheek and squeezed her arm. An image shot into her head—of Mari bundled in a thick fur coat, red hair squashed under a fuzzy Cossack-s...

Bright sun lasered through Jade’s eyelids. She popped them open and raised her head. Morning. Finally. At least the pain had subsided. What time was it? Hopefully Juan would be here soon and could take her to the hospital. 

...

Juan’s truck wasn’t in the yard when she arrived home. Home. To use that word with such ease and normalcy might be perceived as odd by some people after being here only one day, but this place felt safe, comfortable. 

Once the...

The next morning over coffee, Jade read the names Abraham had written: Neowarat Akholay, Ladonna Wolf, José Luis Guadalupe Martinez. None were even the least recognizable—not that they should be; she hadn’t met many people yet. I...

A knock sounded on the front door. Jade folded the letter and tucked it back in her purse. The knock came again. If she were a negative person, she’d be wondering if someone was delivering an eviction notice from the townspeople. She headed downstair...