Final Cut

Damon Miller built his career on endings nobody wanted - doors left open, hearts left unamended. He never once had to reckon with what the ending of his own show actually cost the people who built it, until a woman named Nadia found him in the wreckage of the finale's backlash and seemed to understand him better than anyone alive.

Three dates later, he wakes up taped to a chair in a concrete cellar. Nadia is gone. In her place is Nad - a stunt double he fired eleven months ago without a second thought, over what he still remembers as a routine scheduling call.

It wasn't routine. It was cover.

Nad had seen something on set she was never supposed to see - an affair between the show's two leads, careful and hidden and worth protecting at any cost. So when her hand went through a railing on his watch, the actors he liked most quietly made sure she never came back, and Damon signed off on it without asking a single question. He didn't know the eleven weeks of income she lost were the eleven weeks her mother needed to make a treatment window that never came again. He didn't know her mother died waiting for a slot she couldn't afford to buy back.

Now Nad wants Damon's help staging the deaths of the two people who did this - not as punishment out of proportion to the wrong, but as the only accounting anyone was ever going to give her. She's spent eleven years making bodies fall safely on camera. She's spent the last six months relearning that skill in reverse.

The Re-Shoot is a claustrophobic, unrelenting descent into what a person is owed when the people around them decide their pain is simply inconvenient - and what happens when the debt finally comes due, with interest, from someone who knows exactly how to make it look like nobody's fault at all. Once the tape goes on, nobody in this book gets to walk away clean. Not even the man who thought he understood the cost of the story he told.

For mature readers. Contains graphic violence and psychological terror.