Someone (possibly an ex-girlfriend) once told me told me that jealousy was evidence of love.

Hope Queener wants a change in life. Her only hope is that her grandfather, the patriarch of the family, will allow her to move on, take the internship that could introduce her too much needed connections. Hope Queener, the doting daughter, who heeded the family rules her whole life, knows the only way to undermine her grandfather’s conservative restrictions is to wait until he dies.

On a bus to Chapin City, Miguel Figueroa wonders what he has left in the world. His relationship with girlfriend Catherine is slowly coming to an end. The pressure of adulthood is hanging overhead. Catherine’s addiction to painkillers makes the new girl in town more and more attractive.

Fire burns, engulfing the scenery in its waves. The picture framed memories drown; the photo album hopes sucked within its whirlpool. There isn’t any hope left for survival, the arsonist says. When in doubt, frame the ones you hate, even if it means hurting the ones you love.

Eve Martinez clucks her tongue against her teeth and watches as boyfriend David sneers at the passing philosophy major. For months now, Eve has been seeing the young man behind her long term boyfriend’s back. Nothing romantic, but the feeling’s blooming. Ace’s are wild, David says, shuffling the cards. What about jokers? Eve asks. No one plays with jokers, Eve. It’s common knowledge. You play with jokers, you get burned.

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