“There’s not much, but I know who you can speak to about Lips’ father.” The detached, cold look slips on Avery’s face a fraction as she takes the envelope. I can’t look at it or touch it, so fucking terrified of what’s in it. Atticus looks between the two of us and then says, “You need to call the Boar. Everything leads back to him.” Fuck. God-fucking-dammit.
