©WebNovelPub
PREVIEW
... d admit it. Maybe I’d been planning it for weeks and maybe the decision had already lived inside me, growing a pair of fangs and claws, waiting for the right night to bite. My father’s voice echoed through the living room like a gunshot. "If you walk out that door, Harlem, don’t bother coming back."
He didn’t raise his tone. He didn’t need to. His words had a way of cutting without volume; emotionless, measured, final. Mom ran out their room and when she saw me with my luggage she looked ...
YOU MAY ALSO LIKE




























