Chapter Fifteen
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PristineMerryweather's exit left a ghost of a conscience in the room.
“You've done it again,” it seemed to say.
“When will you learn?” it whispered.
“What a disappointment,” it hissed.
“What a disappointment you are, my boy.”
The voice was so like Merryweather's, but not. Despite the spectral tones, there was only one man who could say so little, yet hurt so much: my father. I searched about expecting him to reveal himself at any moment. The bruised room remained empty, though, and that was how I wished it to stay.
I dressed at speed and vacated Violante's room quicker still. Once stood outside in the silent corridor, free of the claustrophobic purple decor, I contemplated hunting her down and apologising. Whether I meant it or not, it would've been the right th
