LOGIN"That woman..." she pointed at her without a shred of hesitation, "...should be ashamed of herself. If she wanted to help you, there were other ways. A decent woman would have taken you anywhere but here. Instead she surrounded you with this filth and expected you to believe it was a home." Denise
Hazel held her tightly, too tightly. As though letting go for even a second might mean losing her all over again. She buried her face against Gianna's hair. "You found me..." Gianna whispered through tears. Hazel couldn't answer. She only held her closer. Then, over Gianna's shoulder, Hazel lifted
Salvatore watched her, "Hazel." She didn't stop, "If there's even the smallest chance my daughter is there..." her hands shook as she pulled on her coat, "...then she's not spending another minute in that place." She was halfway to the door before Salvatore caught up beside her. "Hazel, we don't
She slipped off Denise's lap and crossed the room, wrapping one arm around the pole, she pushed lightly from the floor. Her body rose in one smooth motion. She curled around the pole like a ribbon caught in the wind, every movement precise, every line unmistakably shaped by years of ballet. For a
Gianna laughed, suddenly shy beneath all the attention, "It wasn't perfect." "Oh, listen to Miss Perfection." Denise pointed toward the chrome pole standing near the corner of the room, "What about that?" Gianna followed her finger, "The pole?" Tasha nodded, "You think you can climb it?" Gianna
Before she could react, Morgan gently pressed the black costume into her arms, "Wear it." Gianna stared, "...No." "Yes!" they all shouted in unison. Denise hid another smile behind her coffee. Gianna looked toward her for help, "Mama D?" Denise lifted both hands, "I've learned not to argue when
Gianna ━⊰ ❦ ⊱━ I tugged at the scrap of black lace riding up my hip. This outfit wasn’t clothes, it was a prayer. A tiny, see-through prayer. I caught my reflection in the cracked dressing room mirror and barely recognized the girl staring back. The silver wig was cold and synthetic against my
DISCLAIMER This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, and events are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is purely coincidental and unintentional. This book, including all i
Gold and one diamond, simple and elegant like her. The small pendant caught the light immediately. Ti amo. I love you. My mother used to trace those same words into my palm with her fingertip whenever I was little. Over and over until I laughed and pulled away. This necklace was different, s
The thought sat badly in my chest. Because Gianna kept calling them friends and sisters. Maybe they were but friendship wasn't always healthy. Sometimes people dragged each other down. Sometimes loyalty became self-destruction. And Gianna was already fragile enough. She didn't need women drown







