There’s a room in the house I don’t go in often. It smells… quiet. Not empty, just full of old...

I was dreaming of the park—the one with the squirrels I never catch and the crunchy leaves I love to...

The sky was crying. That’s what Mom always said when it rained, and I never understood it until that day....

There’s something magical about socks. They’re warm, they smell like home, and they’re everywhere. Under the couch. Behind the laundry...

I knew something was wrong the moment the wind changed. The sky outside the window had been sulking all day,...

By week two, I’d grown used to the sound of my name. “Bailey,” she’d say softly as I walked by.“Bailey,”...

The first night was quiet.Too quiet. No barking. No metal bowls clanking. No echo of cages. Just a soft ticking...

I don’t remember how I got there. One moment I was somewhere warm, then cold, then loud, then… alone. Days...