Pauly’s POV.

“You think she’ll be here?” Eleanor asks me, her hand tight in mine.

She was a stark contrast against all of the rusted metal of the trailer park. The once pristine park didn’t survive the waging wars of its occupants. Shells of old battered trailers sat like dried-up husks among the weeds.

“She’ll be here.” I was disgusted that this was our inheritance. That this is where they came and found my ...