The Space Between Three

Kevin Day had survived a broken hand, a monster who called himself a mentor, and four years of being someone else's masterpiece - but he had not survived anything like this. Andrew Minyard had made a science of not wanting things, had built walls out of indifference and kept them maintained with the cold precision of someone who knew exactly what wanting had cost him before; he was very good at it, right up until the moment he wasn't. And Neil Josten, who had spent his whole life believing in exits and distances and the particular math of how fast you had to move to stay ahead of the thing chasing you, found himself face to face with two people he couldn't outrun - not because they were faster, but because for the first time in his life, standing still felt like something other than surrender. Three people walked into the same story without knowing they were walking into each other: one running, one grieving, one sealed so tightly shut he had almost forgotten there was something inside worth protecting - and all three of them were wrong about what was coming, and for once, being wrong was the best thing that ever happened to them.