Max Childs stepped off the plane and into the fading light of his hometown, the air heavy with the scent of rain and jet fuel. The world he’d known in Afghanistan — harsh, chaotic, unforgiving — felt galaxies away from the quiet streets now stretching before him. Yet as he walked through the familiar town that once felt safe, Max sensed a different kind of battlefield waiting for him here — one where the enemy wasn’t marked by a uniform but by power, pride, and deceit.
The drive to the hospital was a blur. Memories of home mingled with flashes of desert sand and the dull ache of loss that had followed him since his last deployment. When he reached the sterile white corridors, his pulse quickened. Erica’s room was at the end of the hall — the same sister he’d once taught to ride a bike, now lying fragile under the harsh fluorescent light.
“Max,” she whispered, her voice fragile but fierce. “You didn’t have to come.”
“I’m here because I need to be,” he said, gripping her hand gently. “You’re my sister.”
Tears welled in her eyes, but she blinked them away. “Brad thinks he can get away with it.”
The name hit Max like a blow. Brad Perry — wealthy, connected, untouchable. He’d grown up with a sense of entitlement that seemed to insulate him from consequences. “He won’t,” Max said, his voice low, steady. It wasn’t just a promise. It was a declaration.
That night, as he stood outside the towering Perry estate, its iron gates gleaming beneath the moonlight, Max understood the kind of battle he was walking into. The Perrys had power — enough to silence witnesses, enough to twist the truth. But Max had something stronger: resolve.
In the days that followed, he began piecing together fragments of truth. The nurse who tended to Erica. A weary police officer who’d seen too much. Even a member of the Perry household who had grown tired of their corruption. Each whispered word, each hidden document, became a piece of a puzzle that pointed toward the truth.
Max had faced enemies with guns, bombs, and hatred. But now, he was up against something colder — privilege and fear. And this time, the mission was personal.