Chapter 1 Marie and the Tea
When Marie was a kid, she refused to sleep with her arm hanging over the side of the mattress. Her sister, who slept one bed over, had convinced her a monster lived under there, and that monster would drag her to hell if she let her limbs drape down. So Marie was very careful to bundle her hands beneath her chin, clinging tightly to the bedding while she repeated her prayers, over and over, until sleep descended.
Now it was happening all over again: same room, different Marie. Or maybe she was still the same Marie. Maybe she was still the same frightened child she'd been back then.
She couldn't remember the last time she'd prayed, though. Not seriously, at any rate. Not the sort of prayer she expected anyone to hear, much less heed.
Suddenly single, sh
