We needed a base of operations. We needed a way to get off the streets and into some semblance of safety and security. There was only one place that I could think of that fit all of that criteria. The one place our father wouldn't hit.
The three of us walked into the Den, it was eleven in the morning and staff weren't here yet. Nobody to question why we were in at this unusual time—despite it being almost the weekend. I hadn't told anyone at the Den what happened with Madeline. She was so beloved at the Den but also I wasn't quite sure on how to explain the situation. I figured if anyone asked I'd tell them that she was ill and in bed getting the rest she deserved and needed.
Flicking the lights on, I lead Miguel and Maverick through the dance floor and behind the bar to a storage room
