Chapter 3

But it was too late.

All that decayed history between us ended the day I was beaten to death in that alley, three years ago.

He could wait forever, but I would never sign.

That picture-perfect vacation he dreamed of? It would remain a fantasy.

The next morning, my phone was dead silent.

Lawson started smug, then his brows knitted; he paced, restless.

Something was off.

He knew I valued my father more than my own life.

Back then, one hint of impatience toward him, and I'd have begged in a heartbeat. Now, even when pushed to the limit, I…