Chase POV
It was so hard to remember Charlie, to remember the way he had looked not long before he died, bald, tiny, but always with a smile on his face. It had been painful to describe him to Sage, to speak about memories that I tried my best to keep contained because to remember them was hard, harrowing, and sometimes the grief could be overpowering. I had lost a best friend when I was almost thirteen, and I had never quite gotten over it. Or perhaps I simply grieved the loss of my innocence, for my father had become ruthless and cruel, cold and distant, leaving me to my own devices more often than not, while Charlie had been like a lighthouse, someone safe I could turn to, someone I could trust without question and then, just as suddenly that was gone. My safety, my sanctuary, my frien
