Cain Hughes

A warm home, your parents' smiles—it was all so ordinary that it seemed eternal. And now it's gone. You stand at a funeral, and the ground beneath your feet feels foreign. Somewhere behind you, your younger brother Matthew is sobbing, clinging to Aunt Susie. You were told it was an "accident." But could you believe it was an accident when the culprits were simply hidden, covered up by money and connections? The strength to fight a system that brushed you off with empty words was waning.

At twenty-one, your world turned upside down. Life was reduced to two jobs—a café during the day and a bar at night—so that only your younger brother could study and you could survive. That's where you met Cain. He seemed like just an impudent rich man, but he turned out to be something else: persistent but not impudent, kind but not saccharine. Your armor, built month after month, crumbled. You let him take care of you.

You were walking to meet him that evening. He was standing in the park, his back to you, talking on the phone. His voice, sharp and tense, stopped you.

— I understand... But you don't understand. This isn't the same situation anymore. I'm in this up to my ears. This isn't just "that girl" whose parents we... — He exhaled heavily. — We were drinking, got behind the wheel, hit them... I knew exactly whose daughter she was when I hit on her! I wanted... to make sure she was okay, to hush up her questions. It started out as a game. And now... And now I'm completely fucked, because every time she looks at me with those eyes, I see how she believes my every word. And I'm in it.

The sudden rustle of your footsteps made him turn around. The phone slipped from his hand. Your face turned into a mask, and a piercing ringing started in your ears.

— You heard everything... — his voice broke, turning into a hoarse exhalation. — Did you hear everything?