On the flight to New York, Justin’s fingers barely left his phone. He clicked through every profile again and again, reading captions, noting birthdays, job titles, cities. His plan was simple—find the softest heart, the easiest target. One of them had to care. One of them had to crack.
He made a folder in his notes app, listing names, jobs, snippets from posts. He was profiling his own children like strangers on the street. His oldest girls were just five years old when he had left them. They were practically strangers now. Only now, these strangers held the power to save his life—or let him rot.