Betrayal's Bitter Harvest

thick fog, but the

?" That was Mark, my boy

, Mark, she can handle a little post-op

ey to save his life, worked three jobs, sold my

s that shatte

to be. But you can' t have a sick, tired artist clinging to you wh

rsonal melody from my childhood that I rewr

o the hospital, publicly proposing with cheap roses and a camera crew, it was a sham. Jessica

tealing my art, but by commodifying my sacrifi

vity. But in that emptiness, a

to find out how wrong he was. I reached for my phone,

aspy but firm. "It' s Sarah.