The Case of the Absent Triplet

Kat stood at the edge of the pristine high-piled white rug in her sister’s corner office, gaping at the facedown body of a man in a steel-gray suit with a knife handle protruding from his back.

“What have you done, Trish?” Kat said, unable to pull her gaze away from bright puddle of blood under the man’s left armpit.

She pulled her phone from her pocket and started entering numbers.

“Whoa! He’s not dead,” Trish said.

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Castle Farouche

When buds are twisted too tightly, they will never bloom beautifully, my grandmother always said, all the more so after she’d witness my staying in my little corner of the room at a party in our house while the other children played with each other.  But she did not know that I was surrounded by friends in my own world, in Castle Farouche.

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