What are you doing? Alecto asked in surprise, stepping back. Laughing brightly, she dragged him towards the greenhouse, the shattered glass reflecting rainbows as brilliant as a million Kodak flashcub...
I don’t want anything else bad to happen, she whispered, her voice choked with tears. I’m so sick to death of bad things happening, of seeing bad things that happened in the past! And I’m guilty of so...
(n.) A house in which tender plants are cultivated and sheltered from the weather.