So.” [Isobel] cleared her throat. “What are we doing?””We,” [Varen] said at last, “are doing a project on Poe.””Didn’t he marry his cousin or something?””The man is a literary god and that’s all you have...

Isobel moved farther into the kitchen, not knowing whether to be relieved that her mother hadn’t had an atomic meltdown, or mortified that she’d taken it upon herself to play head chef with the nearest...

She glanced down at the contents of her plate. Just tell him what it is. Simple. Look at it and say what it is. “Sloppy Joe,” she managed.”Hmm,” he said, sounding doubtful. “May he rest...

She wanted to touch him, to throw her arms around him — but something held her back. Maybe it was the fear that her arms would pass right through him, that she would have come...