of "Second Chance" thr

rfume. Racks of brightly colored, discarded clothing

on, pulling out shirts and che

t blue shirt. The cheap polyester fabric scraped against his fingertips.

ailored Savile Row suits made of vicuña wool and silk.

said, handing him a fa

ainst a tiny, yellowed stain near th

ick, waddled over. She took one look at Josiah

Brenda said to Flora, winking.

lips into a stif

othes from yesterday and pulled the plaid shirt over his shoulders. He looked in the s

e, a black SUV i

rolled down the window, holding his phone

him in the hospital-standing in a pile of garbage c

on. He opened a private messaging group cal

afford a new shirt, Grant typed. He hit send

osiah stepped out o

hirt, his posture was rigidly straight, his aura screaming old money. He

ned. "It looks re

ine smile. The tight knot of disg

all canvas pouch from her purse. She unzipped

Clink

elt like a hammer striking his ribs. He stood there, a man worth a trillion dollars, watching hi

ore. Flora carried the pl

pped off

swerving intentionally toward a massive

ockingly fast, honed by years of anticipation and high-stakes pressure. He grabbed Flora's waist, his

r splashed over Josiah's back, soaki

rain, and beneath it, a faint, clean scent of ceda

n its brakes. The tint

ing loudly. He whistled

t of Josiah's arms, her hands balling into

n on her shoulder. His gr

completely dead. It was the look of an

en, inexplicable chill ran down his spine.

d frantically wiped the mud off Josiah's

rry," she

ed out and gently wiped a drop

ra," Josiah said sof

r heart doing a painful, h

stepped through the door, he glanced up at

anted Grant to spread them. He wante

snapped shut, Grant Holloway