After ten years, the old neighborhood still looked the same, but worn down from time and seemingly too tired to care. The bungalow-style homes rested in neat rows, like little cookie-cutters, but the yards were overgrown, the paint peeling from their exteriors, and rotting garbage strewn the street.

Courtney's taxi pulled up to the curb of 258 Brackwood Lane and parked. She made no attempt to exit the car. All it took was one look at her old house to bring every painful slap, ...