“Something is terribly wrong,” Keenley said after a long pause, even though there was no one there to hear it. Saying it aloud didn’t stop the sick feeling in his stomach.

He scooped up his various papers from the tabletop and scurried out the door. His quill pen, falling from its perch atop his ear, left yet another long black streak down the back of his blue learner’s robe, and joined several others in becoming permanently mislaid.

Keenley ran down the wide spiral staircase, a. . .

“Something is terribly wrong,” Keenley said after a long pause, even though there was no one there to hear it. Saying it aloud didn’t stop the sick feeling in his stomach.

He scooped up his various papers from the tabletop and scurried out the door. His quill pen, falling from its perch atop his ear, left yet another long black streak down the back of his blue learner’s robe, and joined several others in becoming permanently mislaid.

Keenley ran down the wide spiral staircase, a. . .

“No man chooses evil because it is evil; he only mistakes it for happiness, the good he seeks.” ― Mary Shelley

Chapter 1

When I eased open the accordion door to the bedroomette, the sky outside our porthole-shaped window was still dark, the silhouettes of the redwoods just a shade blacker. I tiptoed into the hallway and a river of cold air whooshed over me. The Airstream rocked in the storm and I stretched my hands out, touching both walls to steady myself.

“No man chooses evil because it is evil; he only mistakes it for happiness, the good he seeks.” ― Mary Shelley

Chapter 1

When I eased open the accordion door to the bedroomette, the sky outside our porthole-shaped window was still dark, the silhouettes of the redwoods just a shade blacker. I tiptoed into the hallway and a river of cold air whooshed over me. The Airstream rocked in the storm and I stretched my hands out, touching both walls to steady myself.