Atlanta moved fast, but heartbreak moved faster.

Lynda stood by her small apartment window that morning, watching the city wake up. Cars' horns, distant sirens, and voices of street vendors slowly filled the air. This was her new world, small, quiet, simple. A rented room. A place she controlled. A place that did not ask her questions. She placed her hand on the glass and exhaled softly.

Today, she was meeting her lawyer again. Not for love. Not for closure. For war.

Lukas Weber’s company ...