Annabelle

The morning light filters through the blinds as I prepare breakfast, my mind still caught in the memory of our slight make out session in the hallway. My lips tingle with the phantom pressure of Nolan's, and I have to force myself to focus on the pancake batter I'm stirring.

"Good morning, sweet girl," I call out as I hear Ashlynn's little feet padding down the hallway. Usually, she races in with a burst of energy that lights up the room, but today, she ...