I walked the drive, the gravel crunching beneath my boots marking the final yards of my self-imposed exile. I carried only a small duffel bag. Everything I had earned—the millions that could buy half this city—was in accounts they knew about, and in offshore assets they were not yet supposed to know about. I was…
“Yeah, my Dad. Why?” I asked, trying my best not to panic. “They didn’t tell you, did they?! Baby, this isn’t soap! It’s used to strip industrial machinery of grease and grime.””Wait, what?” I was shocked. “This stuff is toxic, Amy. It causes chemical burns.” I can’t explain how betrayed and heartbroken I felt at…
I walked into the living room. It was sparse. A TV I found on the curb, a couch covered in a blanket to hide the stains, and a small shrine in the corner. Sarah’s photo. She was smiling, that bright, infectious smile that used to make even my hardest club brothers soften up. Next to…
But the most striking thing was her head. It was smooth, pale, and completely bald. “Hey, Bug,” I said, my voice automatically softening. It’s a trick I learned. Outside these walls, I speak in growls and threats. Inside, for her, I try to sound like a human being. “You up early?” “I couldn’t sleep,” she…
I turned off the stove and walked to the bathroom doorway. I had to duck slightly to fit under the frame. “Can’t do what?” “I can’t wear it. It itches. And… and it feels like a lie.” She looked at me in the mirror. My reflection loomed behind her—a giant in a black t-shirt, tattoos…
The school bell had rung ten minutes ago. The campus was a chaotic sea of teenagers, yellow buses, and parents idling in massive SUVs. I scanned the crowd, looking for that familiar mess of curly brown hair. I didn’t see her. I walked past the main entrance, my combat boots crunching softly on the concrete….
Most parents would ignore it. Maybe assume it was a janitor burning leaves or kids sneaking a cigarette. But the smell hit me on the wind, and it wasn’t tobacco. It was the distinct, acrid scent of burning paper and glue. It smelled like destruction. And then, I heard the laughter. Chapter 2: The Silence…
She looked smaller than I remembered. She was curled in on herself, knees pulled to her chest, her face buried in her hands. Her backpack was unzipped and dumped out. Pencils, markers, and erasers were scattered in the mud like colorful bones. But the centerpiece of this nightmare was in the hands of the tallest…
It meant something inside me had finally gone quiet. It started earlier that afternoon, in the living room of the house I helped build. “I could cook this year,” I said casually, sinking into Michael’s leather sofa. “My turkey. The one with sage stuffing your mother loved so much. Remember how she always said it…
I scanned the faces. Too many kids. Too much noise. And then, the crowd shifted. Like water flowing around a stone. Near the bike racks, a circle had formed. The universal sign of a fight. I wasn’t interested. Kids fight. It happens. I flicked my cigarette butt away and turned to leave, figuring I’d catch…