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CHAPTER 14: ALL LIES

DAMIAN Despite the move of time, Ray's house stayed much the same. Ray seemed to have more important things to do than mow the lawn, as shown by the aged brick exterior fading from months of sun and rain. It told a different story inside. The living room was a haven of chaos and comfort, with an old, enormous TV that took up one wall, beer bottles lined all over the table's surface, and soft couches that seemed like they could swallow you whole. The spot where you could curl up on the pillows and forget how much time has passed. When I walked in, Ray was sprawled on the couch, a half-empty beer in hand, his eyes glued to the TV. He didn't even glance up as I shut the door behind me. "Hey," I called out, more to announce my presence than anything else. "You," Ray grunted, his focus still on the screen. "You're just in time. Goldberg's about to crush this punk." I sat on the other end of the couch, glancing at the screen. Some massive guy was pacing the ring, his muscles rippling as

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