“I took the photos with me and heard Lucija making the call. As I closed the door behind me, I caught the scent of death from the patio, carried on the breeze moving the branches of the olive trees.” — Bobby Underwood Copy Share Image
“All families were like that, with their private damage they kept among themselves, ghosts they lived with that only other family members knew about.” — Bobby Underwood Copy Share Image
“I never had a more wonderful time with anyone than I had with Mary that afternoon. I won her a small stuffed bear, and… — Bobby Underwood Copy Share Image
“Off in the distance big white cruise ships had pulled into port, glistening beneath the Mexican sun. Vacationers for whom murder was not on… — Bobby Underwood Copy Share Image
“Fate had somehow conspired against me, giving me a life of its choosing rather than my own. No one would really miss me if… — Bobby Underwood Copy Share Image
“A singular, frightening truth begins to set in: we’re all just a few bad breaks away from falling through the cracks and disappearing. As… — Bobby Underwood Copy Share Image
“No one was more curious and excited about other cultures and peoples than Caroline. She sometimes still remembered facts about cultures, ancient secrets and… — Bobby Underwood Copy Share Image
“We lived in a me-first world obsessed with morally inconsequential celebrities of dubious motivations and shallow character. How or why these people had become… — Bobby Underwood Copy Share Image
“Her face, especially those lovely eyes, filled with amusement. She whispered, “Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men?” I laughed and… — Bobby Underwood Copy Share Image
“I was empty and lonely, unable to remember the last time I'd felt any real happiness, or if I ever had at all. I… — Bobby Underwood Copy Share Image
“The painting was so vibrant and alive with summertime that it seemed to fill the entire room with light. It depicted a small town… — Bobby Underwood Copy Share Image
“I don’t know if I’ll get in with all the bad in life I done. But at least when Saint Peter, or whoever they… — Bobby Underwood Copy Share Image
“Each morning fog rolls over the bay and caresses the Golden Gate, the most picturesque bridge in the world. In the evenings night descends… — Bobby Underwood Copy Share Image
