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Andrew sat in his Mercedes in front of his parents’ house. He turned the car off, he turned the radio off, and he sat there waiting for...something. Inspiration, perhaps. The words to tell his family that he was no longer at La Grue, Harris, Goodman, Beller, and soon-to-be Polone, Attorneys at Law. How could he explain why he quit? He was dying inside, would that be enough for them to understand? He was tired of tallying wins for a firm he didn’t believe in? His secret had been flashed onto the conference room wall with the specific attempt to humiliate him in front of everyone?
He watched his parents’ colonial house from the driver’s seat. On the outside it looked like other homes in the neighborhood, but inside were angry glares and pointed words that could bash your bones like wrec
