There was something about him that had always rubbed her the wrong way. Before her mother’s death, she [Shiara] could remember her saying that he was a nice enough young man, but not the one for her daughter.
~ J.c. Morrows
As she ran, a memory uncurled in her mind and spread out before her and it felt like she was running into the memory.
If this is Heaven, I am in big trouble.
I pushed my over-taxed muscles even harder. I could already hear the sound of the heavy wheels that moved the doors into place. And I knew I was not going to make it . . .
