Fractures

The morning sun poured across the estate like a spotlight, but inside Ares’s mansion the brightness felt cruel, mocking. His head pounded from the whiskey he had consumed through the night, and his body sagged where he sat in the living room, still in yesterday’s shirt, crumpled and reeking faintly of smoke and despair.

The gavel’s echo from court still reverberated in his ears: Custody awarded to Tessa Monroe. Ten years imprisonment for Chloe. The words circled endlessly, ...