The fluorescent lights above buzzed faintly as I hesitated at the end of the corridor, the guard’s voice fading behind me. Against my better judgment, I turned back toward Francis’s cell. Something about him, the way he had spoken, tugged at my curiosity—a dangerous lure. I was supposed to visit Matthew, but this seemed a lot more pressing.
He was still at the bars, his hands gripping them loosely, his face unreadable.
“You want to know why, don’t you?” he said, as if reading my thoughts.
“Why what?” I asked, though I already knew the answer.
“Why I do what I do.” He tilted his head, his gaze piercing yet calm, as though discussing the weather. “You don’t come face to face with a monster every day, do you?”
I stayed silent, unsure if engaging him was wise.
“I’ll tell you,” he con
