Tessie stepped out of the shadow, her breath stuck in her chest as she clasped her hands in front of her. Stepping into the long narrow room heavy with books and an ominous mood, his eyes flickered, alight with self-assuredness.
"Tessie O’Shea. Or is it Fisher? Or… Crabbe?“ He pronounced each word carefully. Yes. He knew her name. His eyes narrowed as his lips pursed. “But it is unmistakable, isn't it? You are Crabbe through and through." He tucked his hands behind him, strolling casually as if to circle her. "And if there's one family trait we have," he mused. "We don't die easy. Though you had some help, did you not?" Arthur looked accusingly at Kyran, who squared his shoulders. "Don't have the appetite for it, do you my son? Your grandfather has a word for that I believe." And he pause
