Moloch closes a book and walks from his study ordained with his various achievements as a surgeon. It is 3pm and like the day before, he heads down the main hall, through the foyer, and onto the east portico that overlooks his vast garden. With little to occupy his mind, his garden has become his most obsessive hobby. He beams with pride as he overlooks the garden, brimming with red and white rose...

“Watch your head,” Brooke calls out from the crawl space door to her daughter. Rose was climbing into the attic to retrieve an old ballet costume that was her sisters. “What?” Rose called back to her mother, turning her head to look back. “A beam!” Her mother shouted back, but it was too late. A thud, a crumble to the floor, and rose held her head as she folded into herself quietly sobbing as her ...

Need to add ending lol

Mother rushes into the bridal sweet clutching our only maternal heirloom; a slightly discolored but intricately laced mid-length vail is crushed by two fists of ivory complexion. My mother is no stranger to frowning, but the corners of her mouth are draped down her face almost as fierce-fully as her plunging neckline. “Don’t panic,” she blurts out. I stare at her questionin...