Quentin’s POV
The guard slid the morning paper under my cell door, the same way he always did, like I was some old man waiting for the comics section. Most days, I ignored it. The news was noise. But today, I picked it up.
And there she was.
Front page.
Thora Greenwood. My Thora.
Her hair was drawn back, her chin was thrown up, as though she believed that she could do more than the world. She was also clutching a pile of papers in her bosom and fierce in front of the cameras. There was a screaming headline on the page:
“Greenwood vs. Palmer: Custody War Brewing.”
I laughed. Low. Dark. It echoed off the concrete walls. She really thought she could win.
Sweet, foolish Thora.
She never understood the game. She still didn’t.
I folded the paper neatly and put it on the corner of my co
