Part One 3% battery life. That’s all I had to find a job, a place to sleep, and—if I could manage it—whatever remained of my dignity. The Honda Civic’s windows had fogged from my breath; the cold made the fog bloom. I was backed into the dim corner of a 24-hour pharmacy lot, stealing enough … Read more
For weeks, Sophie Cunningham has been the Indiana Fever’s conscience, using podcasts and interviews to wage a verbal campaign against what she calls the “dangerous” physicality and poor officiating that has plagued her team. Last night, in a crucial road game against the LA Sparks, the campaign turned from words into pure, unadulterated fire. In … Read more
By SoapScene Weekly | August 2025 In a stunning emotional crescendo that left fans breathless, Ridge Forrester’s long-awaited romantic decision has finally dropped — and the fallout is everything The Bold and the Beautiful promised and more. Both Taylor Hayes and Brooke Logan, long locked in a love triangle for the ages, were left in … Read more
Part 1 I don’t remember my mother ever being sane. From the day I was born, the house made a sound like something fraying—fabric tugged thread by thread until only strings were left. The curtains were tattered and never washed. The TV was always on, a carousel of tinny hymns and stern men pointing at … Read more
Part 1 The cream‑colored envelope felt heavier than paper ought to. It wasn’t just the cardstock—my family preferred thick things, steaks and statements and silence—it was what the return address meant: Valentin Rogers, Attorney at Law. He’d notarized debutante oaths and prenups for the women in our family since before I learned cursive. He sent … Read more
Part 1 “You left the utensil drawer open this morning, didn’t you?” she asked, stepping out of our bedroom as the late‑morning glow filled our kitchen. “You slept in quite a bit,” I said automatically, then paused to digest what she’d said. To my right the counters formed an L into the corner. Cabinets shut. … Read more
Part 1 I don’t know where else to put this. I’ve called 911. I’ve broken windows. I’ve tried staying awake all night, skipping town, everything. But every time the clock hits 8:43 p.m., I’m back at the beginning—on the front porch of a quiet house in a cul-de-sac in Maple Hill, holding my backpack and … Read more
