Back when Cora still slept on the top bunk, I talked to her all night.

It’s Tuesday, September 19th, 4:01 PM. You’re late.

“Alright,” said the genie. “I believe you are familiar with the rules.

The water was slipping down the walls again, forming an uneven rhythm of dripping against the uneven grounds.

Eloise kept her eyes cast downward, cold rain seeping into her ballet flats.