“It’s funny,” he said, setting the mug on the porch railing. “What’s funny, Mase?” I asked, looking at him and wiping my cheek with my sleeve. He pursed his lips, looking out to the field again. “This place was your safe space, and it was my own version of hell.” A lump formed in my throat. Those wild, storm-filled eyes met mine again. “And now, the roles are reversed.” Hallow Ranch was heaven to some but hell to others.
