The weeks after Cross's arrest were strange.
Adam woke up every morning expecting a fight. A phone call. A threat. Something. But nothing came. The city was quiet. The gangs were hiding. The construction on the Docks continued without interruption.
He should have been relieved.
Instead, he felt empty.
“You're not sleeping,” Sandra said one morning. She stood in the kitchen, coffee in hand, watching him stare out the window.
“I'm sleeping enough.”
“You're lying.”
“I'm surviving.”
She set her cup down and walked to him. “Surviving isn't living. You've been surviving for years. Maybe it's time to try something else.”
“Like what?”
“Like being happy.”
He looked at her. “I don't know if I know how.”
“Then learn.”
---
The garage was busier than ever.
Gus had taken on two new appren
