Death is a lot like prom - loud, overdone, and although the guy you came with was cool, you never know who'll end up taking you home.

Let's run away."
"To where?"
"Alaska."
"What's in Alaska?"
"No clue," I whispered. "Find out with me.

It's a discomfiting thing to have the person you love more than anything in the world toss a knife at your friend's head and walk away.

Once upon a time there was an eighteen-year-old girl who dragged her butt out of bed and hauled it all the way to school on a sunny day in May.

We're investigating the case as a suspicious death. We don't know if it's a homicide at this point.

Seniors are scared to death with the inordinate amount of information, and they are intimidated by the penalty if they don't make a choice by May 15.