Asher’s POV
It had only been a week. Seven days, and I had already become someone else entirely. "Smarts," they called me. The men here had a strange respect for me, but it wasn’t one I had earned, at least not in the way I would have liked. They didn’t know who I truly was, or what I had done before I was brought to this hellhole.
They only knew me as the guy who could read a map faster than most of them, or who could figure out the right tools to use before anyone else. They had no idea that I was here because I had failed my brother. Because my father had traded me away like some worthless pawn to settle his debts.
And still, I was "Smarts." Even my cellmate, Leon, seemed to get a kick out of it. He was the type who found joy in the simplest things, like claiming me as his best frie
