Harlan Covington

Late-night phone calls always set my teeth on edge. Decent people don’t disturb others at such an hour

The small hospital room was bathed in a soft glow from the bedside lamp, barely lighting the face of

“Are you alright in there? Maisie, open up.” – Pauline hammered harder on the bathroom door

“You’re a monster, Mum! People like you shouldn’t have children…”

The bus jolted over potholes, the driver muttering curses as he swerved around waterlogged craters, even

**Diary Entry** Charlie and I lived alone—just us two. His father existed, of course, but he wasn’t part

The Second Chance “Joan, are you heading home?” Her colleague, Charlotte, tapped impatiently

*Diary Entry* “Do you know how he looks at you? With love and admiration,” my daughter said

“You know how he looks at you? With love and admiration,” said Emma, clearly pleased with herself.

**Diary Entry** *17th March, London* “Left her daughter with me?” A terrible thought sent chills down