C217 217

He was only four years old. What kind of hell had he walked through to carry such darkness in his tiny hands?

"Aaaagh!"

A raw, guttural roar ripped from Liam Jr.’s throat. It was a dry, rasping sound, like the gears of a rusted machine forcing themselves to turn for the first time in years. It wasn't the cry of a child; it was the sound of a soul shattering.

Chloe Bishop surged forward