JACK
Parker Simon would rather walk away than be the reason we fall apart. I know in my gut that’s why she left us behind. She’s too good of a person for it to be anything else.
But she’s wrong. This was never about her. It’s Vivian.
Vivian Thatcher, the queen of calculated chaos, who builds her empire one puppet string at a time. Who carved loyalty into her son with knives and demanded he bleed polished apologies when she stabs him in the back.
This is her fault. Not Parker. Never Parker.
And I’m not letting her control me too.
I walk into Gavin’s office late, still steaming from the way the town hall prep went down. It’s almost time for the livestreamed meeting, and every speech sounds like it was designed by Vivian’s ghost. Hollow. Sanitized.
I barely make it three feet into the
