Stolen Truth — A Novel

A psychological thriller — Chapter 2

Henya Drescher
Nov 6 · 9 min read

The house is quiet, a hollow echo of how I feel. But other sounds magnify — the creak of the old building settling, the wind slapping the clapboard. After several minutes of pacing, I go outside to wait. Lightning crackles across the sky. I glance at my watch. Seven minutes. Ten minutes. Fifteen minutes. With each passing moment, my panic rises higher and higher.

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Henya Drescher

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I write what I see. I document what I hear. I talk when listened to. I listen when talking is needed to be heard.

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