It was ten years of comfortable certainty cracking open on a gravel driveway, in broad daylight, in front of everyone, before I had said a single word.

Chapter 3 — Why I Came

I want to be clear, because the whispering crowd was already writing its own version of my reasons, about why I had come.

I did not come back for Garrett’s money.

I had my own salary, my own house, a life I had built without a single dollar from the Remington fortune, and I would sooner have driven back to base than touched a cent of it.

I did not come to beg anyone’s forgiveness, because I had done nothing that required it.