Damien Shaw

I lie on the stiff hotel bed, staring at the ceiling. The room feels cold and quiet, and no matter how many times I toss and turn, sleep won’t come. I glance at the clock on the nightstand. 12:00 AM. The bright red numbers mock me. I’ve been here for hours, and my mind still won’t shut off.

It’s like everything is crashing down on me at once. My father. Imogene. The lies. The secrets.

I turn over, clenching the pillow under my head, but it’s useless. I can’t stop thinking about that damn text. Seeing his name, Luke Shaw, was like being by a bullet. My father,...