“Promise me, Roxie,” he said again. The way he said her name – low and slow and sweet – was like nothing she’d ever heard. She could feel his eyes on her in such a way it was as if he was tracing the oval of her face with his fingers. And all her halfhearted talk of leaving turned to ashes. “I promise.”

“Promise me, Roxie,” he said again. The way he said her name – low and slow and sweet – was like nothing she’d ever heard. She could feel his eyes on her in such a way it was as if he was tracing the oval of her face with his fingers. And all her halfhearted talk of leaving turned to ashes. “I promise.”

— Laura Frantz