Tomas Mournian books

hidden (2011)

“What’s wrong?” I open my mouth. But I can’t speak. I turn my head, look. The door clicks, shut. Hammer nods, index fingers to lips, a silent “Shhh.” He steps away from the cam and peeks through the closet door. “Marci. Music? The box is in back’a you.” I reach back, press Play and music—tribal, ...