Chapter 2

I took the card the way I'd take a receipt from any customer and set it beside the register.

Three days later, my manager called to apologize.

"Nathan, I had no idea who you used to be. I'm sorry, but we can't keep you here. I'll pay you for the entire month. Please don't make this difficult."

He hung up and blocked my number.

Then Victoria called.

"I know the café wasn't right for someone with your talent," she said. "I made sure they let you go. I've bought you a house in the city. Brandon needs somebody to help him with engineering drawings. I'll pay you very well to work for him."

I gripped the phone.

She had sent me to prison to protect him. Now she wanted me to ghostwrite his work, as if my brain were a prize she could hand to her fiancé.

"I have a life," I said. "Please stay out of it."

"Don't be stubborn. Designing is what you love. I'll take care of you whether you like it or not."

Before sunset every café, diner, and hardware store in town had somehow heard they shouldn't hire me. Employers treated me politely, then said the position had just been filled.

My landlady found me that evening, apologetic and close to tears.

"I'm so sorry, honey. Someone said my son's job could be in danger if I keep renting to you. I can't risk it."

I packed the same night. Victoria called it compensation. I called it destroying the little peace I'd managed to rebuild.