The train rolls west, a steady rhythm and blur of rails and stations, and Meghan Ford sits stiff-backed straight in her seat and stares out the window and wonders why the sky is clear ( Read more... )

"Meghan, can I talk to you?"

There are certain immutable facts of Meghan Ford's life, and lately she's been very grateful for them. They're touchstones, handholds, signposts.

One of them is that requests from her father that start with Meghan rather than Meg are not really requests. It doesn't necessarily mean that she's in trouble; in fact, it ( Read more... )

Meghan Ford steps into her parents' house for the first time in three month -- or three hours, depending on how she measures. It's still here, she thinks. And I'm not in some padded room somewhere.

Nothing, absolutely nothing, has changed. The letter she wrote to a friend in Victoria that afternoon -- this afternoon? -- is still sitting on the ( Read more... )