Zayne’s POV

Redemption doesn’t come free, it demands payment in scars.

The city never really sleeps. It just pretends to.

The rain had been falling since afternoon, soft at first, then harder the kind that makes everything smell like rust and regret.

I sat in the corner booth of a rundown café on Fifth, waiting for a man who once said he’d never meet me again.

Thomas Reed. Investigative reporter and Truth addict.

He used to be one of the good ones before life chewed through his optimism ...