J.C. Morrows

As she ran, a memory uncurled in her mind and spread out before her and it felt like she was running into the memory.

There was something about him that had always rubbed her the wrong way. Before her mother__ death, she [Shiara] could remember her saying that he was a nice enough young man, but not the one for her daughter.

I pushed my over-taxed muscles even harder. I could already hear the sound of the heavy wheels that moved the doors into place. And I knew I was not going to make it . . .

If this is Heaven, I am in big trouble.