(Kaelen)
He comes back alone this time.
That's the first change. The two men from before — gone, or waiting outside, or repositioned. He opens the door himself and closes it behind him and the cell feels different with just the two of us in it, smaller, the particular compression of a space shared with someone who has already decided something.
He's carrying a chair.
He sets it in front of the bench where I'm sitting, maybe four feet away, and he sits in it backwards, forearms on the back, looking at me. Like we're having a conversation. Like this is a thing between two reasonable people.
I look at the door behind him.
Closed. No visible lock from my side, which means it locks from outside and Dorian has the key or someone outside does.
I look back at him.
He's watching me catalogu
