Chapter 425 Unwritten

ID Johnson 1.7k words

Sarah

Worn, weathered hands cup mine in the warmth of a room covered in faded wallpaper. Toys are scattered across a woven carpet of muted greens and yellows, and small voices lift in glee and mischief, blurred and faceless.

The hands around mine are so large compared to my small, child-sized...

Previous Next
You can use your left and right arrow keys to move to last or next episode.
  • Previous
  • Next
  • Table of contents