Chapter 1

The heavy oak door groaned as I pushed it open, the brass handle cool and worn smooth by decades of palms sliding over it. The air inside hit me first—a thick, intoxicating cocktail of stale tobacco, cheap bourbon, and the sharp, mineral scent of chalk dust. It was a smell I hadn’t breathed in years, yet it lodged instantly in the back of my throat, triggering a memory so vivid it made my knees weak. This was The Gilded Cue, a vintage pool hall tucked away in the district’s oldest brick district, a place that refused to update its aesthetic despite the modern world rushing past its windows. I stepped further inside, letting the door click shut behind me, cutting off the distant hum of city traffic. The ambiance was heavy, suspended in amber light that seemed to emanate from the numerous Edison bulbs hanging in clusters from the low, dark-beamed ceiling. The glow was warm, almost oppressive, casting long, stretching shadows across the checkerboard floorboards that had been polished to a high sheen. It was a sanctuary of nostalgia, a place where time had curdled and thickened. My father was alone. He sat at a central table, one that