Bowden Clayton's POV:
The pungent, sharp tang of disinfectant burned my nostrils, sending a throbbing ache straight to my skull. I stared down at the thick plaster cast encasing my right foot and the mummy wrap of bandages around my ribs. Every breath felt like dragging fire through my chest.
I cursed under my breath.
''Those thugs played for keeps.
''That madwoman... she actually went and hired a collection agency.'
The door creaked open, and my mother, Valeria, hurried to my bedside. The moment she laid eyes on the wreck of a man I'd become, she let out a piercing gasp.
"Bowden! My God! Where were the police? Is this what we pay taxes for? How can something like this happen in Newford?"
Her hands trembled as she reached for me, hovering in the air, terrified that even a feather-li
