Chapter 14
In a rundown motel on the outskirts of the city, Daniel sat on the edge of a sagging mattress in his soiled grey sweater.
His hair was unwashed, his beard was overgrown, and his eyes were hollowed out by days of relentless stress and hunger.
He picked up his prepaid burner phone, dialing the familiar number of his father's private line for the hundredth time.
A recorded robotic voice answered instantly: "This number is no longer in service or is blocking incoming calls."
Daniel slammed the phone against the cheap wooden nightstand, burying his face in his hands as bitter tears finally broke through.
He had traded his family, his child, and his future for a woman who was currently rotting in a federal prison cell.
May you like
The heavy iron door of the motel room rattled loudly, startling Daniel out of his miserable thoughts.
Two local repo agents stepped into the room without knocking, looking down at him with undisguised contempt.
