Ryan
I walked out of the guest bedroom as early as 5 a.m., walking into Damon's kitchen to brew myself a cup of coffee. I grabbed the mug and walked towards the floor to ceiling windows overlooking the view of the city and the rising sun.
As I sipped on the coffee, my mind wandered to the twins and Julia. It was Christmas Eve, and I knew I should be spending time with my family, but I couldn't, not when everything I'd worked hard for was falling apart at its seams and I had a chance to set it right.
I turned around at the sound of a door opening down the hallway, and Damon walked into the living room a minute later. His eyes seemed bloodshot, almost like he hadn't slept a wink, probably too paranoid that Maya was going to try and escape. I don't blame him, though.
“You look like s**t,”
