HIS SON WAS NOWHERE.
The mansion was huge, but Garnett had never before cursed it for being what it was. He cursed now. He swore in every language he knew and with so much hate and fear that he should have been melting the paint off the walls around him.
From room to room he swept, calling for Brendan, checking every small space that a ten-year-old boy might hide in. Everywhere from the living spaces to the library to the kitchens, even into rooms Brendan knew better than to ever go. Every time, the same thing.
Nothing.
The only places he hadn’t yet checked were the rooms in the servants’ quarters. That wing was separate from the main house. Separate to the point that Brendan would have no reason to go there. Down the hall he ran anyway, to the southwest corner of the estate, meaning t
