“Okay. But he doesn’t just get to walk away from this. I understand what you want, but no way can we trust this fucker.” I turn to Tyler, who’s watching us with a mix of fear and hope. “Jack . . . I want this awful night to end.” “Here’s what’s going to happen,” he says, his voice steadier than I feel. “You’re going to resign. Effective immediately. You’ll cite personal reasons, health concerns, whatever. But you’re done at Moth to the Flame.”
