“You want to hide,” he says. “I know. Because you feel like you’re not allowed to think the things you think. Or… — Gretchen Powell Copy Share Image
“The stars glitter from outside... like cosmic confetti sprinkled across the night sky.” — Gretchen Powell Copy Share Image
“Ten neatly coiffed female attendants stand against the walls, ready and waiting. Wearing starched yellow blouses with pink crossover ties neatly folded under the… — Gretchen Powell Copy Share Image
“Why don’t we just assume from now on that I’m just generally freaked out at all times?” — Gretchen Powell Copy Share Image
“Something clicks in my brain. My heart instantly plummets to the bottom of my stomach, and I feel my face start to flush with… — Gretchen Powell Copy Share Image
“You want to hide,” he says. “I know. Because you feel like you’re not allowed to think the things you think. Or feel the… — Gretchen Powell Copy Share Image
“Why aren't you at school?" I ask suddenly. "It's a holiday," he says, a little too quickly. "Right. What holiday would that be? National… — Gretchen Powell Copy Share Image
