QUINN'S POVI had a hard time breathing as I walked toward home. The night air had grown colder and still, constricting my lungs. I shuffled along, oblivious to my surroundings. Vaguely, I realized I wasn't walking toward home. My robotic feet were heading toward Ford's loft. Even with everything I'd just learned, my internal compass still steered me in his direction.I choked back the tears clogging my throat. I replayed my conversation with Hayes over and over in my head. He couldn't have been telling the truth. Ford would never murder his own father. Hayes' story sounded more like a Greek tragedy -- a made up scenario to entertain and delight. Except I hadn't been entertained or delighted.Oddly, in some ways, maybe it even made sense. Ford's reluctance to talk about his family, his obsession for personal privacy, the fiery animosity between he and Hayes, the way he'd tried to keep me at arm's length for weeks now. I should've questioned his strange behavior more. Or maybe I did an

QUINN'S POVWhen I knew Ford had gone, I eventually went back downstairs and to the business center. After spending some time job hunting online, I made three appointments to view apartment complexes in the area. Since Ford had found me in Maryland, I could apply for more commodity trading positions. At least I still had my career.After I finished in the business center, I grabbed a quick lunch and then took a self-guided walking tour of downtown Annapolis. History littered the city practically around every corner. I convinced myself I'd be happy living in this beautiful place. I convinced myself I'd made the right decision -- that being without Ford and his constant hot/cold behavior, I could truly begin to figure out who I was without him.The problem with trying to convince yourself of the lies is, eventually you realize it doesn't work. I 'wanted' to work at HI and I 'wanted' to sleep in Ford's bed for the rest of my life. I wanted our lives to meld into one.I wanted to grow old