The downfall was fast and complete. Disappointed Hank catapulted himself to the dark side, and didn’t look back.

It was a deficit in his character, absolutely, that made him so unable to handle even the simplest of bad situations, but a person’s true character is rarely revealed until they are staring into the face of adversity. Hank’s test came early, when he wasn’t emotionally mature enough to handle it after being coddled by parents and friends his whole existence, but it would have shown up sooner or later.

He was handsome, Hank, and a partier, and always had a little cash on hand, which meant he attracted women who thought to enjoy his attentions. He took great advantage of said attentions, but then he met a girl who started to straighten him out, and things began to look up. Neighbors whispered Hank Tomkins had outgrown his childhood disappointment and was going to be a responsible young adult. But then the idiot cheated with Alicia Barstow, his high school crush. And of course, Alicia got pregnant and told his girlfriend, and the whole world collapsed down around him again. Wash, rinse, repeat—only he was caught dealing meth this time.

A sympathetic judge took pity on Hank and threw him into rehab. Which turned into a life-changing experience for our young man.

Sober for the first time in years, he acquired the tools and learned the trades a man needs to succeed in life. Like how to commit fraud, check kiting, identity theft, and where to find the shadow men who did all sorts of things behind the scenes for criminals who had needs, desires, and money.

This wasn’t the education the judge wanted him to receive, but Hank happened to be there at the same time as a kid named Jake, who was one of the most successful con artists Ohio had seen in recent years. So good he’d conned a judge into sending him to rehab instead of jail after his last infraction.

Jake and Hank were inseparable. Jake taught Hank all he knew. Turned out Hank, with all his intelligence, had an aptitude for the long con. He was a very good actor, after all. Brilliant with accents, mimicry. He kept them all in stitches doing impressions during group therapy.

And then there was Ivy.

She arrived on a Wednesday at two in the afternoon. Ivy was hot in the damaged way of all lost young women. Doe eyes, scraggly blond hair with dark roots, waif thin. She wouldn’t talk to anyone, or meet anyone’s eyes. She shuffled around the edges, watching without looking. There were rumors, always rumors. Suicide attempt, probation violation, assault while under the influence. None of it mattered; all of it was true.

She was a swan among ducklings. She was a queen. She ruled them all, one bashful Mona Lisa smile at a time.