Easton Chase can't keep taking swings.
Baseball was his way out, the ticket to college and a life no Chase before him had ever lived. But after he fights for a state title, his arm gives out for good.
At home, everything's broken. His mom is gone. His dad's in jail. He's stuck with grandparents who barely know what year it is.
The hardest part isn't what he's lost. It's what he's been taught to be. A voice in his head that sounds a lot like his father's decides what he's allowed to feel and want. Strength means silence. Emotions are hidden.
The only place that feels like home is the Quinn house. But that's changing. Tanner Quinn is the one person Easton never got over. He's still around, close enough to see, close enough to hurt. But he's moving on, and Easton isn't part of where he's going.
Alcohol quiets it, for a few hours. But the deeper Easton sinks, the harder it gets to hold on to anything: baseball, the Quinns, or himself.
If he can't silence that voice and decide who he really is, he won't just lose his future.
He'll lose himself.
