The room was silent, heavy, and smelled of cigarette smoke and something else he hated. Adrian sat still, his palms pressed together tightly on his lap. The air around him felt thick, like breathing through dust.
Across the table sat his father—Elder Thorne—dressed in his usual dark robes, his silver ring catching the faint light from the candles. He wasn’t looking at Adrian yet, only at the book open before him, his finger tapping against a page as if the words written there were more important than the living person sitting across from him.
Finally, his father lifted his eyes. Cold. Colorless. Unblinking.
“Have you found anything yet?” Elder Thorne asked.
Adrian straightened immediately, trying not to sound nervous.
“Not yet, Father. He… he keeps to himself. Doesn’t say much.”
Exc
