Chezdon

THE OXYGEN DEBT Seventeen-year-old Chezdon Morrison lives seventy-two floors above a Melbourne that is splitting along fault lines years in the making. The city isn’t burning. Not officially. But from his tower, he can smell the smoke. Chezdon has survived things that don’t come with neat diagnostic labels or triumphant recovery arcs. He has done the appointments. Taken the medication. Performed functional daily engagement. And still the static hums beneath everything. The visible scars are the easy part. It’s the invisible ones that keep misfiring. Outside his glass walls, Melbourne performs its usual theatre: protests and politics, old money and fresh wounds, tram sparks above South Melbourne rooftops, the NGV glowing like a reliquary, the Yarra moving through it all with ancient indifference. Somewhere in that sprawl is his father, newly entangled in something corrosive. Somewhere else is the boy he loves, cutting furious laps through a dead man’s pool.

Nice burned behind him. Smoke, sirens, chaos and Louis still walked away. Barely. Now, Golfe-Juan is supposed to be safe. Quiet. Seaside calm. But Louis knows better. The cafés hide whisperers. The alleys conceal hands that twitch toward knives. The yachts glitter like innocent toys until night falls and the shadows come alive. He’s plotting a comeback, Napoleon-style, but this coast is crawling with predators: men who smile too much, boys who know secrets he doesn’t, and ghosts from his own past who never forget a slight. Every step could be a trap. Every friendly face could be a lie. Louis isn’t just fighting for power anymore. He’s fighting to survive the people who want him dead. And in Golfe-Juan, survival is a game that only ends one way. amazon.com/author/chezdon