“Please,” Royal whispered. It was the first thing he had said after what felt like hours had passed by. After Enma’s statement, he had not moved; he had not spoken. He had sat there and continued to sit there as time passed. “Please.”
“This is something no amount of pleading will fix, Royal. What this was, as lovely as it was, cannot continue. You do not realise this, but you are putting yourself at risk, and with me letting you continue coming here, I am allowing this to happen.”
“But I don’t want you to die. You’re my friend. I don’t want to lose you,” Royal rasped. “I don’t want anyone else around me to die.”
“I’m sorry.”
Enma didn’t have a chance to reply, because in the distance, they heard the faint creak and thud—the sound of the cellar door opening. Enma’s eyes snapped over to
