Jake Grant dropped the eighty-pound weight to the floor, hid his face in his hands and cried. The gym was closed, had been for hours and that was the only reason he let the tears flow.
Six months had passed since Mark had been killed. The insurance company had settled early, and the money sat in an account he didn’t want to think about. The huge Victorian house they had bought together in downtown New Bern and refinished had sold last month.
All that was left for him in North Carolina was the gym.
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