She stood, unsteady, surrounded by the chaotic aftermath.

Tailored suits and shirts strewn everywhere. The glittery remains of a vase sprayed across the floor. The background “whir” of a shredder, determinedly chewing on a silk tie.

And in the mirror, the mascara-smeared face of unrecognizable madness stared back at her.

Jane is a current writer, former teacher, mother, and happily married wife—unlike the character in this story. She just moved from the big city of Toronto to a teeny tiny town called Fonthill with her husband and three sons, giving her more time to write and less time to make a living.