~ Harley ~
I don’t sleep.
I lie in bed staring at the ceiling, watching shadows stretch and curl like they’re trying to spell something I don’t want to read.
Since you were eleven.
Your father trusted me.
Mortgage paid.
Hospital bills gone.
Scholarship fund.
Every sentence loops until it feels like it’s carving grooves into my skull.
By morning, I’m shaking.
Not from fear.
From fury.
Darla is at the kitchen table with her coffee when I walk in. Same mug. Same quiet house. Same life that suddenly feels staged.
“How long have you known Quinn Valentine?” I ask.
The mug freezes halfway to her mouth.
There it is.
Recognition.No confusion.No surprise.
She sets the mug down slowly.
“Harley”
“How long?” My voice cracks like a whip.
She closes her eyes for a second. Just a secon
