The Margin
*LET US IN.* The words came from a thousand throats at once. From every version of us that got cut. Angel who walked away. Sinner who pulled the trigger. Hope who never glowed. Lily who never drew. They pressed against the edge of the road like a tide. White space cracking under their weight. Lily squeezed my hand. “Mommy, they look sad.” “They are,” I said. Voice barely there. “They’re what could’ve been. What the Editor cut.” Sinner pulled us back another step. Put his body between us and the margin. “If they get in, they overwrite us. There’s only room for one story.” Hope squirmed on his hip. Gold eyes fixed on the margin. He didn’t cry. He stared. Then he reached out. Tiny hand toward the teeth made of pen nibs. “Hope, no—” Sinner shifted him back. The margin laughed. Soun
- Writer
