Elizabeth would’ve sold a kidney for a slice of pie and some ice cream. She pulled up to Bunsen’s Burgers in her Toyota Camry and barely waited to throw the car in park before she opened the door. She’d just gotten out of the gym; her hair still wet from the shower. Something about exercising ...

“Where is Jack Kelly? I know he’s here.” If the man with the gun hadn’t yelled, Elizabeth wouldn’t have heard him; her ears were still ringing. His gravelly voice managed to break her trance on the weapon he held.  He was wearing a black hoodie with a ski mask, burgundy gloves, black track pants, and ...

Across from her, stuck to the bar, was a fragment of bone, glued to the surface by a glob of viscera. It made Elizabeth queasy, but somehow her intense focus on it prevented her from throwing up. The white shard eventually fell. No one noticed but her. The old man snatched the discarded weapons and ...

Elizabeth didn’t sleep well. She woke every few hours, either to some noise or because she was uncomfortable. She dreamt of the old man and the ring, a different dream every time she fell asleep. They were in the diner, but it was only the two of them in there. She sat on the ground ...

“Lizzie?” She realized she’d zoned out of the conversation while her parents were play-fighting. Jules was looking at her, concerned. “Sorry, my head hurts, but I’m okay.” She gave a loose synopsis of the situation, about the old man and the two gunmen. She minimized how close she came to dying from the gun pointed ...