The rain hammered the redwood cliffs, a relentless percussion against the grey sea. Steam curled from the copper tubs overflowing with fragrant herbs and bruised berries at Blackwood Springs. Inside, Silas traced circles on the condensation-slicked glass with a calloused…
The chipped Formica felt cool under Leo’s palms. He kneaded, pushed, folded—each motion a futile attempt to work out the knot in his chest. Rye dough. It smelled like…everything. Like his grandmother’s kitchen, like Sundays, like a life he couldn’t…
The chipped Formica of the counter felt cool under Kenji’s palms. Dust motes danced in the single bare bulb hanging above. Outside, Tokyo exhaled a gritty sigh, a city still coughing up ash, even a year after the firestorms. He…
Elisa’s shoulders bunched, a tight knot beneath worn leather. Dust motes danced in the single shaft of light slicing through the high, barred window. Years had scraped against her, leaving a residue of mistrust. “Release it.” Forian’s fingers, calloused and…