
The Unspoken Terms Chapter 1: The Breaking Point “At least Mom’s new husband isn’t a loser like you.” My son,…

In the spring of 1944, a small-town train station in the middle of America buzzed with the same sounds it…

The Day I Chose Myself My sister slapped me in front of all the passengers during our Hawaii trip, and…

By the spring of 1945, the war had ripped so many holes in Germany that most people simply tried to…

CHAPTER 1 — THE BREAKING POINT I was halfway through a spoonful of yogurt when my husband looked up from…

PART 1 — The Girl at My Door The doorbell rang at 9:47 a.m. It startled me hard enough that…

The Tide Turns: A Brother’s Stand I gifted my parents a $425,000 seaside mansion for their 50th anniversary. When I…

On a damp spring morning in 1944, in a proving ground somewhere in Maryland, a group of American officers stood…

On a cold gray morning in March 1945, a troopship nudged its way into New York Harbor and creaked alongside…

Seven Seconds The automatic doors of Children’s Hospital burst open as I ran through them, my work scrubs still on,…

In the early years of the war, most men in German uniform thought of the United States the way you…

After my husband’s funeral, my son said, “Get out,” but he had no idea what I had already done. You…

After my husband’s funeral, my son said, “Get out,” but he had no idea what I had already done. You…

My name is Darius Thurman, and I spent twenty-three years of my life behind the wheel of an eighteen-wheeler, hauling…

In August 1984, the arrivals hall at Pittsburgh International Airport was loud with ordinary sounds—suitcase wheels rattling, announcements echoing, families…

The autumn wind rustled through the golden leaves on Oakwood Lane as a little Black girl stood silently on the…

By August 1942, the name “Guadalcanal” was just a tangle of syllables on a map to most Americans. To the…

By 1943, the Japanese Empire had carved its might into the black volcanic rock of New Britain and given it…

The tray nearly slipped from Eliza’s hands as her eyes locked on the portrait in the grand hallway. There, above…

On the morning of May 24th, 1941, the North Atlantic was a steel-gray sheet under low, heavy clouds. On its…