her coat and only then noticed her hands. Her wrists were bruised, as if someone had squeezed them and wouldn’t let go. An all-too-familiar sight.
“Is that him?” I asked quietly. “Your husband?”
Emma looked at me. There was weariness and pain in her gaze, a look that made me want to turn away. We were twins, and I knew that face all too well. Seeing continue reading …
