Chapter 3
Dreaming about an empty book means you’ve yet to tell your story, and there is someone who needs to hear it.
Emma jumped as the front door slammed, and the shouting that had recently begun inside the house continued out into the front yard. The little closet she called home did not offer any type of insulation against the noises made by others in the house. She could hear everything. Much more than she wanted to hear. Earlier that day, Reginald Jones had informed her that he would be hosting his weekly card game that evening. She had just made them both a sandwich which consisted of stale bread and cheese that she wasn’t sure should have been consumed by anyone, considering its sour smell. But it wasn’t like there were many choices in his bleak kitchen. The sparse pantry held s
