My father reminded me of everything I didn’t have. I had no money. Two hundred and forty dollars in a savings account from babysitting. I had no…

My name is Anne Mercer. Everyone calls me Annie. My story began thirty-one years before that hospital room, in my parents’ kitchen on Linden Street, on a…

The first thing I saw when I woke up was the ceiling. White tiles with little holes in them, the kind you only see in hospitals and…

Part Six: Dustin On the eighteenth day after Jake died, I heard a sound outside. It was the tractor. I went to the window. Dustin was in…

Part Four: Three Brothers Jake had two brothers. Shane was the oldest. He’s thirty-three now. He sells cars at a big dealership in Clarksville. Chevy and GMC….

Part Two: Jake My husband was Staff Sergeant Jacob Whitfield. Jake, to everybody. He was twenty-eight years old. He served nine years in the United States Army….

Black and Paid For Part One: The Hayfield Dustin had just dropped a bale out the back of the baler when Shane’s silver sedan pulled up at…

The next morning, before I went to work, a new fan was hanging in the corner of the pen. A big one. A sixty-inch barn fan, the…

Size twelve. I wear a nine. I’d walk past them every morning, going out to the barn. Every night, coming back in. Sitting there on the step….