Chapter 23: "Self-temped, self-deprav’d: man falls, deceiv’d."

After his sobbing dies down, it’s quiet in the car. Rhys is still lying against Sawyer’s chest, letting the latter run his fingers, gently, through Rhys’ hair, while cradling Rhys tightly to his chest.

Heavy, rain-filled silence aside, a chill is settling into Rhys’ bones that has nothing to do with the weather.

He just cannot stop thinking about an off-hand comment Sawyer had ...