Zayne POV

“Some days I wonder if redemption’s just another word for running from who made you.”

The office smelled like cinnamon tea and paper too calm for the storm in my head.

My therapist, Dr. Adler, sat across from me, her pen poised like it had the power to dissect the thoughts I hadn’t said yet.

“You’ve been quiet for five minutes,” she said finally. “That’s not like you, Zayne.”

I stared at the floor. “Do you ever think some men shouldn’t be fathers?”

Her ...