From scapegoat to king

t rips you from sleep and leaves

voice was a

had. He... he m

the Austin night air doing nothing

mistakable stench of fear. Chad, former college football star, now just a ghost ha

he kept muttering, eyes wide

and on his arm. "No, Chad, no

now clouded with a desperate plea. "He was drun

se NFL dreams had shattered with his knee,

I started, but

anxiety, his depression. Prison... it'll d

ds that would cle

it was you. Say you w

hum of the refrigerat

ha

rs started, a calculated flow that always, always undid me. "I'

was somehow her fault, a penance for a high school romance that ended. And I, loving Bri

to be near her, to be "normal," suddenly felt like a flimsy stage set. My real life, th

hispered, her face close to mine, her br

looked at Brittany, the woman I

constructed ordinary life, all of it felt i

slow, heav

ka

hed over her face w

wardly drunk driver" who'd fled the scene. The local news ate it up. My face was

. Brittany sat me down, her hand trembling

.. I'm p

. Maybe this was it. Maybe this would be the thing tha

t words ext

hey find out about the baby... with all this...

nd. "So? It's our

I told a few people... a few reporters who wer

orld

u w

'm just standing by him, that this is some tragic love story."

otects him? What about m

he fina

hink I need to

was a raw tea

st said any more pressure..." She trailed off, her gaze fixed on some d

e. Everyone excep

tered. The love I'd felt, so va

alked to the window, looking out

ough contacts, past "Brittany," past "Dad,"

rle

ne rang

erous amusement, purred into my ear. "Well, well

ger's, trembling. "Scarl