From Ruin: The Photographer's Comeback

ting blanket. Corey kept his eyes on the road, but I could feel his discomfort. His slight shifts in the

ow." His voice was low, filled with ge

ine, Corey. You didn't k

the betrayal-those sharp edges had long since dulled. What

most to myself. "It feels like someone el

ity traffic. The air in the car remained charged, despite my

e still clutched in my hand. It was

bject almost comically transparent. "This file. Was that why you

he cover. It felt cold under my thumb.

nodded slo

sk what els

h," I said, the words com

e, his eyes wide with surprise

essive form of cancer they only discovered a few months ago." My voice was monotone, reciting facts, not fe

. The city lights blurr

free. And don't ever let that bastard win.'" A small, humorless sm

ht me how to ride a bike, who always told me I could achieve anything. He never blamed me for anything. He always tried to shield me from his world, eve

ed through the numbness. A flee

nd through my hair. "My story, I mean. It's

queezed my arm. "I'm here to li

orious white-collar criminal's daughter, who was once married to the FBI agent who

ful self. "I can handle a long story. Es

y. Ready to finally tell the story, not