I never in my life thought that a man like Shaw would look at me the way he is right now. That I’d be worth it. Except there’s this tiny voice in the back of my head that’s starting to speak up, and it’s saying that maybe—just maybe—I am worth it. It’s a whisper compared to everything else, but it’s there. And it doesn’t sound like my father. It doesn’t even sound like Shaw. It sounds a lot like me.
