As Fedora approached the gates, his mind remained as restless as a trapped bird against a windowpane.
"To think I was about to feel empathy for this stupid man," he hissed under his breath, the lingering irritation from his encounter with Miguel still curdling in his chest like spoiled milk.
But as he drifted to within a few metres of the gigantic gate, the petty banter with Miguel was violently swept aside, replaced by the rising tide of cold anxiety regarding his parents.
Would they actually be waiting for him, just as Tyra had predicted, or had the gods of mercy finally granted him the grace of their slumber?
He couldn't tell, and that suffocating uncertainty made his pulse hitch, even though he knew in his gut that he might be walking into a trap.
He reached for his phone, flicked the screen, and checked the time pulsating in the cool, blue glow of the digital display:[01:30]
