son time. My foster mother, a kind woman with little mon
would even speak to me. I was living on scraps, trying to
was walking home through a dark, empty alle
y were drunk, aggressive. They
them sneered, grabbing my arm. "A
d. I fought, but they were too strong. They pushed me against the c
he sound of a car s
door s
her
ority that cut through the night air. I
s headlights. He was older, dressed in a perfectly tailored
is none of your business,"
voice. He simply took a st
let her
ted a quiet power that was more intimidating than any loud threat. They exchang
thy pavement, sh
d knelt beside me. He
u alrigh
There was a faint, familiar resemblance to Caleb in the line of his jaw, b
," I whispered,
d wrapped it around my shoulders. It was
ting. I saw your picture in the news clippings my assista
eb' s father years ago and left Nashville to build his own tech empire in Silicon Valley. He was the re
r and recognit
m nothing like my brother' s family. I read about
n my eyes, the utter despair
feet. "Let' s get you out of here. You
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