CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE:GHOST MESSAGES
DAMIEN Damien stared at the screen like it was burning a hole through his hand. “Damien, son. It’s Mom. Can we meet?” The words glowed back at him, stark and unyielding. He tossed the phone onto the coffee table like it had insulted him. Arielle watched him carefully from the kitchen counter, where she had just finished pouring two glasses of water. “Damien… is that—was that your mom?” He rubbed his face with both hands and let out a bitter laugh. “Thirty years. Thirty. Years. And now she wants to talk?” Arielle moved closer, placing the glasses down and sitting beside him on the couch. “Maybe she’s reaching out now because she finally has the courage to do it. People change.” “No,” he said flatly, standing up. “People don’t just disappear from their kids’ lives for three decades
Great novels start here
- Writer
