Emily Taylor

Margaret Whitmore awoke to the gentle glow of June sunlight filtering through her curtains.

Every evening at precisely eight o’clock, Edward turned off the kitchen light and settled by the window.

Every night at precisely eight o’clock, Oliver turned off the kitchen light and settled by the window.

**”Who Can I Complain To If My Own Daughter Hates Me?”** “I need to report my daughter

“You must respect my rights!” declared my son, unaware of how easily a mother’s heart can

**Storm in the Family** A few days ago, my older sister Margaret invited me over. She suggested we meet

Margaret Whitmore woke to the pale golden light of a June morning brushing her face. For once, the house

There, Where Silence Dwells That night, Eleanor woke at four in the morning—as if yanked from sleep by

A Storm in the Family A few days ago, my older sister, Emily, invited me over. She suggested we meet

**June 12th** The morning light slipped through the curtains, warm against my face. For once, the house