Chapter 7
Ellis
Saturday was busy at the range, so when Miss Maggie told Ellis to march his ass up to bed and sleep it off, he knew he must look bad. Probably as bad as he felt.
He was hurt. Tired. Confused. Weirdly numb. It was a lot like the flu, actually. He curled up in bed with Clarkisms dancing around in his head. Clark would say the best way to gain trust was to give it. So if, say, a lover shared a deep, dark secret, then that should inspire more trust, not less. But what happened when the secret was exactly as awful as deep, dark secrets should be? Most people’s shame was built on a shaky foundation. Bryn’s, Ellis feared, was built on stone.
But how could somebody who had done such horrible things be so…so…Ellis didn’t know how to describe it. He could only picture Bryn’s face
