BREN
“Dad?”
This couldn’t—no.
How?
I glanced at Channing. His jaw was clenching. His eyes fierce, and he was glaring a hole in our dad’s head.
“What?” I moved forward a step. “How?”
“Honey.” His voice was choked up. “Bren.”
It was night, but the full moon was out. A few streetlights shone over us so I could see him good enough. He seemed taller. Was he? More thin. But he was more refined. Or maybe I wasn’t remembering him right? He looked good. I mean, good for coming from prison.
Wait.
Prison.
My head was spinning. I turned to my brother. “Chan?”
He reached out, closing his eyes as he placed a hand on my shoulder. He visibly shook himself, so when he turned to me, he’d gone through a complete transformation. The tension wasn’t reflected anymore and his hand trembled from the ef
