Cole Wright is sitting in the rear seat of a black up-armored Chevy Suburban, one of three in a convoy speeding its way down Route 125 in the Seacoast Region of New Hampshire.
Even from this distance, Vivienne can hear the cultish drone of the singing bowls, and she rolls her eyes as she comes along the dark path between the trees.
Joan Goodwin gets to the Johnson Space Center well before nine, and Houston is already airless and muggy.
Three hours later, Friday and Melanie were on a flight to Oslo. Ian was not with them.
This particular tale begins right at that moment when all things begin, which is when you don’t actually realise that something is about to begin.
‘Let’s buy a chateau’, they said . . . ‘It’ll be an adventure’, they said . . . ‘You’ll meet a prince’, they said . . .
Not long after uploading my first video, I started to receive messages—thousands of them.
The fourth trimester is rough, but beautiful. Challenging, but rewarding. Exhausting, but fulfilling. Indefinite, but short.
We met quite young, both of us still finding our footing in college, but as soon as we were in each other’s gravity, Sara and I felt an undeniable pull that kept bringing us even closer together.