NOT THE RIGHT ALEX Daisy stood in front of the mirror, changing her earrings for the third time. “Well, Button,” she addressed her dog, “these or those?” Button yawned. “Thanks for the support.” She glanced at the clock. Half an hour to go. Strange nerves. Usually she felt confident—suitors hovered around her. But this time… “Nonsense,” she decided, giving herself one last look in the mirror. “You’re the best!” Maybe it was because she’d never seen Alex before? Three weeks of phone calls—not a single meeting. Three weeks, and I haven’t got a word in edgeways, she suddenly thought, smirking. Daisy took a deep breath and picked up her handbag. Time to go. THREE WEEKS EARLIER “Oh, when will you finally get married and move out!” sighed her dad—the consultant neurosurgeon—over dinner. He’d just come home from a marathon surgery, hoping for a quiet evening with a volume of Terry Pratchett. But Daisy had spent the past half hour chattering non-stop, comparing British and American science fiction. “Dad, you said Pratchett was the peak—” “I did. Another time, love—I just need some peace tonight.” Daisy pouted and went quiet—for all of three minutes. “By the way, speaking of marriage,” her dad brightened up suddenly. “Remember Dr. Spencer—the head of the GP surgery where I sometimes help out?” “Yes?” “He’s got a son. Supposedly an excellent chap. Spencer asked for your number—to introduce you. I said yes.” Daisy grimaced. All these set-ups—so old-fashioned. For wallflowers, surely—not for her! But she didn’t have the heart to argue with her dad. THE FIRST CALL The “excellent chap” waited a few days before he called. “Hello?” “Hi, it’s Alex. Your dad mentioned me?” “He did,” Daisy replied, cool but slightly intrigued—the voice was pleasant. “My dad spoke really highly of you. Said you’re… extraordinary.” “I don’t know about that!” she laughed. “Just an ordinary med student. Paediatrics at St Mary’s. What about you?” “Oxford. Future surgeon.” Ah, that explained the slightly smug tone. They talked for an hour. Then another two. Then every day after. Alex talked about his cat Miranda, his love for sci-fi, and his worry that he was too thin, too pale, too tired… Sometimes Daisy caught herself thinking: Isn’t that supposed to be my role? She barely kept herself from saying, “Alex, just lighten up.” Though, he hated being called “Lex.” Still, if you overlooked the little things, she liked him. THE MEETING AT OXFORD CIRCUS Eventually, they arranged to meet. At Oxford Circus, by the Underground. To see a new film and then stroll over to “Cosmos,” the ice cream café on Regent Street. The rest—who knew? Daisy burst from the tube carriage and scanned the crowd. Bustle. Noise. That distinctive Underground smell. And there he was—tall, handsome, clutching a bouquet of roses by the pillar, craning for each train to arrive. She marched over, determined. “Alex?” He flinched, looked confused. “Excuse me, are you—?” “Daisy,” she said sharply, extending her hand—part handshake, part invitation to kiss it. Stunned by my beauty, she thought wryly. Gone all formal… He froze. “Daisy?” he repeated uncertainly. “But I—” “Come on!” She grabbed his sleeve. “We need to pick up our tickets!” “Wait, I wanted to—” “We’ll talk later!” She pulled him to the exit. He glanced back at the platform, as if searching for someone, but Daisy swept him away into the crowd. The roses were still in his grip. He looked at them, then at her—then surrendered. “All right,” he murmured. “Let’s go.” CINEMA AND CAFÉ They both enjoyed the film. Daisy admired her date’s stylish coat, the artsy, hand-knit scarf he obviously treasured. A whiff of expensive French cologne. Delicious vanilla ice cream at “Cosmos.” They agreed on pretty much everything. Well, mainly Daisy did the talking while he followed her every gesture with warm brown eyes, nodding along. Sometimes, in support, he’d gently enclose her animated hand in his large, reassuring palm. So manly—and so attractive! “You know,” he said during their walk along a twilit Shaftesbury Avenue, “you’re…” “Yes?” she prompted, wary. “So alive. So genuine.” She flashed an utterly enchanting smile—the best she could muster. She was in love. THREE MONTHS LATER The romance took off. They met almost daily and rang each other several times a day—which was as much as you could do before smartphones. After three months, Alex declared that he loved Daisy, couldn’t live without her, and wanted to marry her. Daisy, after a token ten minutes of dithering, rallied and said yes. “You’ll have to meet my parents,” her fiancé worried. “Let’s not rush that!” Daisy panicked. Much as her family wanted her settled, they were frightfully picky about potential candidates. Especially her gran. No one was ever good enough for her precious granddaughter, and Daisy’s parents tended to back Gran’s arguments. There was no way Daisy was giving up on Alex. She wasn’t hurrying to meet his parents either, in case someone let something slip. HER DAD’S BIRTHDAY A chance came a fortnight later. Despite his dislike for fuss, Dad decided to properly celebrate his 55th, inviting friends and colleagues. Daisy mysteriously announced she would be bringing someone. The guests were nearly all gathered when Daisy ushered her fiancé in, bearing carnations and a bottle of French brandy. “Dad, please meet…” she began, slightly embarrassed. The phone rang. “Hold on, back in a sec,” Dad dashed to answer. He came puffing back moments later: “That was Dr. Spencer—just getting directions from the tube. I’m so pleased he’s actually coming. Thought he was cross since you never met his son!” Daisy froze. “Never met him?” Dad stared at her, puzzled. “Well, yes. He said his boy waited for you at Oxford Circus for two hours. With flowers. But you never turned up.” Slowly, Daisy turned to Alex. He stood in the hall, pale, clutching the carnations, guilt written all over him. “We’ll be right back,” she hissed to her bewildered father. She dragged Alex to her bedroom. THE TRUTH Daisy closed the door. Turned to him. “Wait,” she said slowly, almost afraid to understand. “What do you mean—I never turned up?” Alex stayed silent. “You’re not Alex Spencer?” He shook his head. “You’re not Alex Spencer?!” “No,” he said softly. “I’m Alex Sullivan. A friend set me up with a girl—Natalie. I waited for her at Oxford Circus. And then you came up and…” “And I just took you along,” Daisy finished. They stood, silent, in her room. “I tried to explain—on our way to the cinema that first day. But you wouldn’t listen.” “I never listen,” she conceded. “It’s a gift.” Button whimpered at the door. Daisy sat on the bed. “So what now?” Alex looked at her—a long, serious look, maybe too serious. Then knelt beside her. “I don’t care how we met,” he said, “whether by chance or through someone’s dad.” “I love you. Will you marry me—for real, no mix-ups?” Daisy let out a relieved smile. “Okay. Then, let’s meet the parents. Warning—my lot are complicated.” “So’s mine. And I’ve got a cat with attitude.” “We’ll manage!” They left the room. In the living room, the guests waited—including, just arrived, Dr. Spencer and his son. Tall. Handsome. With a bouquet of roses. Daisy glanced at the real Alex Spencer. Then at her Alex—even paler, with his carnations. No, she thought. Not the right one. And she burst out laughing—for real this time. “Dad,” she called, “I’ve got news. And it’s a long story.”
NOT THE RIGHT ALEX Daisy stood in front of her mirror, changing her earrings for the third time.
Driving Down a Snowy Road by the Forest, My Path Was Suddenly Blocked by a Pack of Wolves—One Leapt Onto My Bonnet; Just as I Was Certain I Wouldn’t Survive, Something Utterly Unexpected Happened…
So, let me tell you what happened to me the other dayit honestly still gives me chills. I was driving
The Choice “Turns out, Feddy is very much married…” sighed Susan, perched on a park bench with a referral slip for the hospital tightly gripped in her pocket. Her flatmates back at the halls envied her when they saw her with that dashing, clean-shaven, blue-eyed dark-haired gent, thinking she’d hit the jackpot with such a charming man. But, as it turns out, there was nothing to envy. Susan shivered, recalling the first and only time she met Feddy’s wife – who’d waited for her outside the factory gates to set the record straight. “Hello there! You must be Susan!” the woman began. “And you are?” Susan asked, startled and tense from the tall, slim woman’s piercing, ashy-blonde gaze. “I’m Olivia – Feddy Myles’ wife.” “What?” “You heard me!” “Another naïve girl,” Olivia said calmly. “How many of you are out there, chasing after someone else’s happiness?” “How dare you?” “Listen,” Olivia said, gently gripping Susan’s elbow. “You should be asking yourself the same question. I, his legal wife, have seen you with my husband – and now you’re acting haughty instead of apologising or feeling any shame… But maybe that’s not in your nature. He’s had more of your lot than I can count on my fingers and toes. Getting involved with a married man is shameless.” “He’s a man, a hunter, you see? For him, you’re just a brief fling. He’ll move on soon enough. Keep away from him. By the way, we have two daughters – I can show you a family photo.” Olivia produced a cherished snap, handing it to the stunned Susan. “Here. Proof of true love. This was us in Brighton just two months ago…” “Well, what do you want from me? Sort things with your husband yourself.” “Don’t worry, I will! He only started at this factory recently and, lo and behold, then you turn up. Walk away, won’t you? Don’t fall for his promises – Feddy isn’t about to get divorced. Don’t waste your time. What’s your age – thirty?” “Twenty-five,” Susan retorted, wounded. “Even more reason. There’s still plenty of time for you to get married and have a family. Leave Feddy be.” Susan listened no longer. She walked away on shaky legs, her dreams suddenly eclipsed by the arrival of her lover’s wife. “Betrayer…” she muttered, choking back her tears – she wouldn’t let the world see her pain, not on the street and not in front of her workmates. That evening, Feddy showed up at Susan’s with flowers as if nothing had happened. She kicked him out, swollen-eyed, unswayed by his vows of everlasting love and talk of an impending divorce, after his wife’s revelation changed everything. For two weeks, Susan was left reeling. Feddy didn’t pester her again and acted as though he’d never met her, averting his gaze whenever they crossed paths. Misery never comes alone… At first, Susan blamed her morning sickness and dizzy spells on nerves, but soon reality struck – her all-consuming, naive affair with Feddy had left consequences. “Six weeks,” sounded like a sentence. Susan couldn’t bear the thought of being a single mum. She was terrified, convinced everyone else knew – and now she faced their silent judgement for trusting a man she barely knew, who’d hidden his family all along. What could she have done? Ask for ID on the first date? He wore no ring. Some married men don’t. She should have been suspicious when he insisted they keep their relationship secret at work, but love blinded her until his betrayal became the talk of the office, especially after Olivia’s visit. “I’m pregnant,” she finally confided to her former lover at lunch, desperation pushing her forward. “I’ll give you money, but deal with it,” he grunted. Next day, Feddy resigned, vanishing from her life forever. Susan knew she couldn’t delay forever. Ignoring the doctor’s warnings, she took the referral for the ‘operation’ and found herself gripping that slip on a park bench, terrified to let go. “In a hurry?” said a young man in a sharp suit, plopping down beside her with an enormous bouquet of burgundy chrysanthemums. “Sorry?” she looked up with hollow eyes. “Your watch is fast,” he said, nodding at the gold watch on her wrist. “Oh, it’s always ten minutes ahead,” she replied wearily, turning away. “I keep resetting it, but it’s hopeless.” “The weather’s wonderful today, isn’t it? Real Indian summer. My mum loves this time of year. She always says she made the right choice on a day like this – and never once regretted it. You know,” the stranger chattered on, “My mum’s truly something – I owe her everything.” “What about your dad?” Susan found herself asking. “She never talks about him, and I’ve learnt not to ask. She’s better off without him, I think…” “I just came from a job interview actually. Imagine, they picked me out of ten applicants for a top position – and I’ve barely any experience! It still feels unreal. My mum’s the one who gave me the confidence I needed. My first paycheque will get her a holiday by the sea – she’s never been.” “Have you?” “No.” Susan studied the candid lad, noting his burgundy tie. “Gift from mum,” he said proudly, stroking it. “Sorry – I’m rambling. But you seemed so sad, I just wanted to share my joy.” Susan shook her head – he didn’t annoy her at all. In fact, he’d stopped her downward spiral, and his love for his mother was touching. “What devotion!” she thought. “His mum’s so lucky… I wish I had a son like him…” “Well, I’d better be off – my mum’s waiting and worrying. Don’t rush, though!” “Pardon?” “I meant your watch,” he grinned. “Oh,” she smiled softly in return. A minute later, he was gone. Susan tore up her referral slip in tiny pieces and lingered on the bench, breathing in the crisp autumn air, warmth and light finally returning to her heart. She wasn’t alone after all. Some women raise and nurture wonderful sons single-handedly. A pity she hadn’t asked the lad’s name – but it didn’t matter any more. She’d made her choice. *** Twenty-three years later… “Mum, I’m going to be late,” Stan said, standing at the mirror as his mother carefully knotted the new burgundy tie she’d bought him for an important interview. “Maybe forget about the tie…” “It gives confidence, trust me. You’ll be amazing, they’ll definitely hire you!” Susan finished neatening his collar and stepped back to admire her grown boy. “I’m nervous – what if…?” “This job’s meant for you. Just answer their questions clearly and don’t forget to smile. You’ll be irresistible.” “Okay, Mum,” Stan kissed her cheek and hurried out the door. Susan watched him go, her heart swelling as her dearest strode off to catch the bus. Suddenly, a shock ran through her – she’d seen this before… That young man in the park, more than twenty years ago… Stan in his business suit looked just like him now… How had she forgotten that day for so many years? But now, the memory pulsed with life again. Was it really fate, giving her a glimpse of the future she’d almost thrown away? Showing her – literally – the child she might have lost, steering her onto the right path? She never did learn his mother’s name, nor asked his name, but now – it didn’t matter. Everything turned out just as it should. That afternoon, Stan came home beaming, with a huge bunch of burgundy chrysanthemums to match his tie, announcing he’d got the job. He promised they’d finally go to the seaside, since his mum had never been. Now it was time for him to take care of her, and he’d move mountains to make her happy. No matter what life threw at them, Susan always found comfort in her son’s embrace. They survived it all, and her brave choice had given her a life she’d never regret. Just as it was meant to be!
The Choice So, turns out Freddies well and truly married sighed Sarah, squeezed onto a park bench and
Get Out of My Flat! — Said Mum “Out,” Mum said, utterly calm. Arina smirked and leaned back in her chair—she was sure Mum was talking to her friend. “Out of my flat!” Natasha turned to her daughter. “Len, have you seen the post?” her friend practically flew into the kitchen, not bothering to take off her coat. “Arina’s had her baby! Three kilos four hundred, fifty-two centimetres long. Looks just like her dad, same bouncy nose. I’ve already blitzed all the shops, bought so many outfits. Why so glum? “Congratulations, Nat. I’m happy for you,” Lena stood up to pour her friend some tea. “Sit down, at least take your coat off.” “I can’t stay long,” Natasha sat on the edge of the chair. “So much to do. Arina’s such a good girl, does everything herself. Her husband’s a gem, they’ve bought a flat on mortgage, nearly finished the renovations. I’m so proud of my girl. I must’ve done something right in raising her!”
Out of my flat! said Mum. Out, Mum said, her voice perfectly calm. Anne leaned back in her chair and
Life, Like the Moon: Sometimes Full, Sometimes Waning I Thought Our Marriage Was as Eternal as the Universe—Until It All Fell Apart We Met as Med Students, Married Young, and Embarked on a Golden Life Thanks to My In-Laws, Only to Have It All Shatter Overnight After Ten Years of Luxury, a Knock at the Door Changed Everything: My Husband’s Young Lover, Pregnant, Stood on the Threshold Abandoned, Forced to Move from a Spacious Flat to a Diggy Bedsit, I Lost My Husband—and, Slowly, My Sons, Too Alone, I Struggled to Rebuild: Surviving Heartbreak, Raising Myself Up Again, Rediscovering Life, Odd Romances—And Eventually Remarrying a Flawed Man I Fought to Save Now Grown, My Sons Remain Unmarried—Shaped by the Turmoil They Witnessed And My Ex? Three Marriages Later, He’s Lost Everything He Once Had Just as My Grandmother Said: Life Is Like the Moon—Sometimes Bright and Glorious, Sometimes Just a Crescent in the Dark
LIFE, LIKE THE MOON: SOMETIMES WHOLE, SOMETIMES WANING I once thought our marriage was as unshakeable
BACK FROM HIS TIME AWAY, MY HUSBAND DIDN’T COME HOME ALONE: IN HIS ARMS, HE WAS CARRYING A LITTLE BOY… Helen had just pulled a tray of fish pie from the oven, filling the kitchen with the aroma her husband Victor adored. Borscht was simmering on the hob, the compote just needed finishing off. Everything was perfect for Victor’s return after three months working away up North. Helen’s heart raced with anticipation as the bus pulled up—but nothing could have prepared her for the sight of Victor, suitcase in one hand and a small, wide-eyed boy in the other. It wasn’t the reunion Helen had dreamed of. Instead of rushing into Victor’s embrace, Helen froze at the doorway, her eyes darting between her husband and the unfamiliar child clinging to his leg. Who was this boy? Why had Victor brought him home? Before she could ask, a torrent of confessions, heartbreak, and impossible choices tumbled out—revealing betrayal, loss, and a son Helen never knew existed. As Helen struggled to forgive and to find her place as a stepmother to a grieving, timid child, she faced the toughest test yet: learning to open her heart and body her own family. But just when peace began to settle, an unexpected twist threatened to tear her world apart once more—forcing Helen to fight for the only family she had left, and to discover a strength she never knew she possessed. A gripping, moving tale of love, forgiveness, betrayal, and the true meaning of motherhood—set in the heart of the English countryside.
March 14th Today was the day Id been waiting formy return home after another long rotation up north.
The Right to Slow Down
The Right Not to Rush A text from my GP pinged as I sat at my desk, typing out another email at work.
“After My Death, You’ll Have to Leave – I’m Leaving the Flat to My Son… The Story of Galina, Who Gave Everything for Her Husband and Was Cast Aside When the Time Came to Inherit”
After Im gone, youll have to move out, Im leaving the flat to my son Im sorry, Sarah, but when I die
The Choice “Turns out Fred really is well and truly married…” sighed Sue, sitting on a park bench and clutching the hospital referral note deep in her pocket. Her flatmates back at the halls envied her when they saw her with her tall, clean-shaven, blue-eyed, dark-haired companion, thinking she’d lucked out with such a charming gent. But there was nothing to envy, really. Sue shuddered, remembering her first and last meeting with Fred’s wife, who had caught her at the factory gates to spell out how things stood. “Well, hello there! You must be Susan?” she began. “And you are?” Sue tensed under the piercing gaze of the tall, slender woman with ash-blonde hair. “I’m Olivia—Fred Mason’s wife.” “What?” “You heard me!” “Yet another naïve girl,” the woman said calmly. “How many of you are out there—never ending, chasing after someone else’s happiness.” “How dare you?” “Listen,” Olivia gingerly took her rival by the elbow, “how dare you? I’m the legal wife. I saw you with my husband, and you’re still acting up, instead of apologising and feeling some proper shame—although, I suppose that’s something only decent people do, which doesn’t seem to be you. “There have been so many like you, I couldn’t count them all on my fingers and toes. “You’ve tangled with a married man—shameless! He’s a man, a hunter, you know? But to him, you’re just a fleeting adventure. He’ll tire of you before you know it. Best keep your distance. “By the way, we have two daughters—I could show you a family photo.” Olivia pulled out a photograph and handed it to a stunned Sue. “There. Proof of real, honest love. Us in Blackpool, just two months ago… “So? Why are you silent?” “What do you want from me? Sort out your husband yourself.” “Oh, I will—don’t worry! He only started at the factory recently, it pays well, and now, you’ve turned up to make things worse. “Let it go, for your own good. Don’t fall for Fred’s promises—he’s got no intention of getting a divorce. Don’t waste your time. How old are you, thirty?” “Twenty-five!” Sue retorted indignantly. “Well, then. You’ve got time to find someone else and start a family. Leave Fred be.” Sue listened no longer—she stumbled away from Olivia, whose sudden arrival had shattered her happy world and erased her hopeful dreams in a heartbeat. “Traitor…” Sue muttered, a lump in her throat, determined not to let her emotions spill out in public. She didn’t want workplace gossip. That evening, Fred turned up as if nothing had happened, flowers in hand. Crying and red-eyed, Sue threw him out, despite his eternal promises and claims he and his wife hadn’t loved each other for years. For two weeks, Sue recovered in silence. Fred left her alone, behaving at work as though she didn’t exist. But as they say, trouble never comes alone. When Sue started feeling sick in the mornings, she told herself it was stress. Soon, though, she realised her naive, passionate romance with Fred had left consequences. “Six weeks,” the doctor said—a sentence rather than a diagnosis. Sue didn’t want to be a single mum. She was frightened. She felt like everyone was judging her, all because she had trusted a man who turned out to be a stranger. Fred had hidden his marriage. What was she supposed to do, ask for his passport when they first met? He’d worn no wedding ring, though not all married men do. Why didn’t she question it when he said to keep their relationship secret at work? He had tricked her—and knowing she’d been deceived offered no comfort. The office now buzzed with gossip about “the wife’s visit”. “I’m pregnant,” Sue managed to tell her former lover one lunchtime, desperate. “I’ll give you the money—just sort it,” he muttered, and the next day Fred quit and vanished for good. Sue knew she couldn’t delay. Despite every warning from her doctor, she took the hospital referral for “the procedure”. And so, she sat on a bench, clutching that note as if it might vanish. “In a hurry?” asked a young man in a business suit, plopping himself down next to Sue, an enormous bunch of crimson chrysanthemums in his arms. “Sorry?” she replied, her eyes hollow. “Your watch is a bit fast,” he pointed––indicating her gold wristwatch. “My watches are always ten minutes ahead… I try to fix them, but it never works,” she replied, turning away. “Lovely weather though, isn’t it? Real Indian summer! My mum loves this time of year—she says she made her best life decision on a warm autumn day like this, and never regretted it. Did you know—” he bubbled on, a happy stranger, “—my mum’s like that!” He flashed a thumbs-up. “I’m so grateful to her.” “And your dad?” Sue asked before thinking. “Mum never told me about him, and I don’t ask. She doesn’t like talking about him.” Then, with a bright smile: “I just came from an interview—can you believe, they chose me from ten candidates! The only one they picked, even though I’ve hardly got any experience. Feels almost unreal… “It was Mum that gave me confidence. “I already know what I’ll do with my first pay packet—send Mum to the seaside. She’s never seen the sea. Have you?” “No,” Sue replied, curiously watching the cheerful, talkative chap, her eyes catching his burgundy tie. “A present from my mum,” he explained, smoothing the tie with pride. “Sorry if I’m going on—I just had to share my happiness, and you looked so sad… I thought maybe you needed someone to talk to. Am I bothering you?” Sue shook her head silently. Strangely, the stranger didn’t annoy her—he’d managed to halt her cycle of grim thoughts. His devotion to his mother was something she deeply respected. “What loyalty!” she thought, watching him intently. “His mum is so lucky… Wish I could have a son like him someday…” “Well, I’d better go. Mum’s waiting and she’ll worry. But don’t rush—” “What was that?” she asked. “I meant your watch,” he smiled. “Oh.” She smiled back. A moment later, he’d vanished, and Sue, finally releasing her grip on the crumpled hospital note, tore it into tiny pieces. She sat for a long while, breathing in the autumn air, feeling unexpectedly warm and light. She was not alone. Some women raise wonderful sons on their own. Pity she hadn’t asked his name… but perhaps that didn’t matter. The choice was made. *** Twenty-three years later… “Mum, I’m running late!” Stas called from the mirror. Mum was carefully tying his new burgundy tie—for his own big job interview. “You could just go without, you know.” “It’s for confidence, Mum! Trust me, everything’ll be fine. They’ll take me for sure… That’s it!” Susan finished the tie and stepped back to admire her son. “I’m nervous, what if…” “It’s your job, I can feel it. Just answer clearly, remember to smile. You look fantastic.” “Thanks, Mum.” Stas kissed her cheek and hurried out. Susan watched her only son enthusiastically stride towards the bus stop. Suddenly, she froze, jolted as if by electricity… She’d seen this all before. That lad in the park, more than twenty years ago… Her Stas, suited up, looked just like him. How could she have forgotten that day for so long? Now it all came alive in her memory. Was it fate, she wondered, letting her see with her own eyes whom she almost let go—(such a horrible word)—giving her the chance to make the right choice, guiding her down the right path? Why hadn’t she asked his name, since they were about the same age, or his mother’s name? But now, maybe that didn’t matter. Everything turned out wonderfully. After lunch, Stas came home with an armful of burgundy chrysanthemums—the shade of his tie—and told Susan he’d got the job. He promised they’d finally go to the seaside together. She’d never seen the sea, after all. Now it was time for him to look after the mum he loved more than anything. He would move mountains, turn rivers for her—such was Susan’s son. Whatever life had thrown at them, Susan had never, ever regretted having him. She had made the right choice. And so it was meant to be.
The Decision So it turns out, Fred is well and truly married sighed Kate, sitting on a park bench, clutching
Update Available: The First Time My Phone Glowed Crimson in Lecture, and an Unmarked App Called “Mirra” Asked Me to Change the Probability of Events—But Each New Power, Each Update, Brought a Heavier Price, Until I Had to Choose Between Playing God or Letting the System Run Wild
Update Available The first time it happened, Daniels battered old phone lit up scarlet, right in the