The Midnight Feast

A domestic-help column for the wife who has run out of patience.

The next time your husband wakes you up from his snoring, take your pillow off the bed, and hold it over his face. Then with your hands, apply medium to firm pressure over the center of the pillow.

Dear Debbie · Freida McFadden

The moment a quiet house becomes the wrong kind of quiet.

Anne feels her scream inside her own head and reverberating off the walls-her scream is everywhere. Then she falls silent and stands in front of the empty crib, rigid, her hand to her mouth. Marco fumbles with the light switch. They both stare at the empty crib where their baby should be. It is impossible that she not be there. There is no way Cora could have gotten out of the crib by herself. She is barely six months old.

The Couple Next Door · Shari Lapena

When the details become a way of not looking.

I understand that urge for more information, that longing for details. But in this case, I’m fine without them. I know what happened at Pine Cottage. I don’t need to remember exactly how it happened. Because here’s the thing about details-they can also be a distraction. Add too many and it obscures the brutal truth about a situation. They become the gaudy necklace that hides the tracheotomy scar.

Final Girls · Riley Sager