Marlowe
I found King exactly where I'd left him, patient, waiting, and the moment he saw my tear-streaked face he opened his arms without needing an explanation, letting me fold into him and simply exist in the aftermath of everything the letter had just given me.
"He wrote that I should save him a seat," I said, once I'd finally found my voice again. "Wherever I ended up building my life. Turns out I already did, King. This club. This garage. You. All of it, built exactly the way he asked, and I didn't even know that's what I was doing the whole time."
"He'd be proud of you." King said it with total, unwavering certainty. "Not because of the legacy. Because of who you actually chose to become, in spite of everything trying to stop you."
I let that settle into me, warm and grounding, a
