There’s a version of me that used to pick books for escape. This is not that version. Lately, the books I keep within arm’s reach feel less like entertainment and more like evidence. Like companions. Like mirrors I didn’t ask for but needed anyway. Right now, my nightstand looks like this: Bad Cree by Jessica Johns Stag Dance by Torrey Peters The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue by V.E. Schwab Leading with the Heart by Mike Krzyzewski Spinning by Tillie Walden Hunger by Roxane G