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The Icy Fist
Daniel pulled into his apartment complex, then sat, staring out the windshield at the brick building in front of him. How could he have been so stupid to think that his past wouldn't matter to people? It didn't matter that he'd been doing everything in his power to make things right. It didn't matter that for the past two years, he had been working as a human resources employee in the mayor's office and volunteering at a nonprofit organization that helped the homeless during his free time. None of that mattered because someone had decided to search his name on the Internet, and for the rest of his life, only the mistakes he'd made would surface. Why even try?
His phone rang and he looked down. It was Melinda.
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