Chapter 52: A New Chapter

QUINN'S POV

I 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