Stories

Six weeks after Clara was born, they drove back to Connecticut. Gabriel’s lawyer had handled everything—birth certificate under Jane Mercer’s […]

It happened at three in the morning on a Tuesday in late January. Jane woke to wetness and pain—sharp, radiating

The bonfire wasn’t Jane’s idea. It was Kieran’s—one of the guys who worked at the marina and had apparently decided

The diner had become their place. Jane didn’t know when it happened—when Tuesday night dinners turned into a routine, when

Gabriel didn’t leave. Jane had expected him to. Thought after their conversation at the bookstore, after all the confessions and

Gabriel showed up at the bookstore again the next morning with two coffees. Jane was opening up, still half-asleep, when

Jane made it through exactly two hours of her shift at the bookstore before Gabriel walked in. She was shelving

Jane didn’t sleep that night. She lay in bed with one hand on her belly, feeling the baby move restlessly—picking

Five months later, Jane Mercer had become real. She had a studio apartment above a bakery in Seabrook Bay—a tiny

The hospital room was too white. Too bright. Too full of questions Celeste couldn’t answer. “Jane Doe” was what they’d