The silence that followed Derek Faulkner’s departure was heavier than the one that had preceded it. It was a pressurized quiet, filled with the ghosts of a decade’s worth of disappointment.
Serena Ashford sat by the bed, her eyes fixed on the clock on the wall. Seven-twenty-one. In nine minutes, the "thirty-minute miracle" Derek had promised would either manifest or dissolve into another pile of ash.
"He’s not coming back, Serena," Patricia Hartwell said softly. She began to gather the empty plastic containers from their meager meal of watery porridge. Her movements were slow, burdened by the rhythmic ache of a woman who spent her days as a member of the working class, sweeping the very streets her family used to own.
Serena didn't answer. She looked at Lemon, who was still staring at t
