ra

e. The whispers from the restaurant had erupted into a digital firestorm. I was a home

e office, its glass walls o

voice raw. "Why did

y to look guilty. He admitted

a major Moretti company is going public next week. We can't a

ante, this will destroy me. This will ruin my chances of ever getting

nd elsewhere. "You don't need art school. I'll take car

ong," he added, as if that fi

quietly had him removed, his hand broken in three places. He had come

an was

ongings I had left. I was preparing to leave this city for good right after

ent burst open. Dante stormed i

gging into my skin. "Where is she

wildered. "What are

me," he snarled. "She'

ng about it," I said

patience, already worn thin, snapped. He s

ith contempt-"who else would give

expression hardening from rage into a cold, ve

ou are anymore," he said

eft without a b

harp, metallic taste filled it. I coughed, an