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Chapter 386: Domestic Evidence
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Chapter 388: The Shape of Surrender
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... ng and his body insisting on panic before his mind could even piece together where he was.
For a moment he didn’t remember the room. Then he did, because the room had no personality. No softness. No scent that belonged to anyone human. Cheap paint. A bare bulb with a faint buzzing hum. A mattress that smelled like detergent and old sweat. The type of place you’d rent if you needed walls more than dignity.
The first thing he did, as always, was reach for the part of himself that u ...
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