Chapter Sixteen
Callan forced the fumes of hope away. Several months ago, he had stood in front of yet another tombstone, just as inconspicuous, bittersweet that he’d found what happened to his best friend yet couldn’t save him. And all that had come crashing when the body hadn’t been Blaine’s.
He let the door slam behind him, cutting off those thoughts and the guilt they carried. He focused on the man in the room, who bowed as if in prayer, muttering words, his shoulders trembling.
The metal of the chairs glinted under the white light. Grey walls surrounded them on three sides and on the other the one-way mirror was a pool of dark mercury. Enough to drive a sane human to Bedlam, eventually.
Callan’s boots echoed, and the slap of the file exploded in his ears like the thunder raging ou
