Could he dare to hope again? Could he endure it?
Under a dark sky, Joe swung his ax, every blow reminding him of each day he’d lost to this place. It hadn’t mattered before he’d met Christophe, but now, a minute wasted in here, was a minute he didn’t have with Christophe. Vascali had set him up, that betraying son of a b***h. He’d robbed Joe of three years of his life. And he still had four years to serve. Seven years was too great of a penalty to pay.
Enraged, but passive, Joe looked around at the woods, at his fellow inmates. What was their true offense? Their true crime?
Poverty? Ignorance?
Or an unfamiliar surname?
Christophe was right. They were the blood and guts needed to feed the upper classes.
But Joe’s dark thoughts were cut short, when at his right, he heard some sort of c
