Chapter Fifty-Seven

Corbin

Dad's office smells like leather and coffee, and it feels too clean for the kind of conversation we're about to have. Beckett sits on one side of the desk with a folder open, his posture rigid, the kind of rigid that says he's trying not to explode. Savannah sits beside me with her hands folded tight in her lap, her engagement ring catching the light every time she moves, and every time it