Marcus The darkness is a blanket, heavy and warm. I float in it, weightless, untethered. The pain is distant, muffled, like a memory that belongs to someone else. I drift, and I let myself drift, because drifting is easier than waking. Waking means remembering. Remembering means the pain becomes real again. But the darkness is not empty. Faces swim through it. Liam as a boy, chasing fireflies by the lake. His father, David, laughed at something I said. Eleanor, her eyes grey and sharp, handing me a letter with trembling fingers. Keep him safe, she said. Promise me. I promised. And now, I am bleeding on the floor of my apartment, and the ghost is still out there, and I have failed the only promise that ever mattered. The memory surfaces like a bubble rising through dark water. I was twenty-three when I met David Cole. He was older, already a force in the city, but he treated me like an equal. He saw something in me that I did not see in myself. Loyalty. Silence. The ability to wa
Last Updated : 2026-07-06 Read more