Everett and I sit and stare at each other from our places on either side of his desk. He's been drumming his fingers against the cover of one of the tomes. I can see the cogs turning somewhere in that brain of his, probably trying to figure out how to tell me about that emotional night. Something happened that pissed Wayland off though. Something was said about Fated and... well, I just can't quite remember. My head has been swimming in memory fog as I've attempted to piece together the events and conversations of that night.
Everett steeples his fingers together as his gaze remains steadfast. I bite my lip as the silence swells, the building anxiety with every moment that passes feeling as if it may drive me crazy. I watch Everett's mouth purse and his eyes furrow as we continue this st
