Kingsley stood in the corner of his bedroom, the lights dimmed down to a low, moody amber glow spilling from a single bedside lamp. It was well past midnight, and Beth had already retreated to the other side of the mansion. She said something earlier about a Zoom event and locked the door behind her. He didn’t ask. He didn’t care to. Not anymore.

He was tired. Not the kind of tired that sleep could fix, but the kind that settled deep in the bones, in the mind, in the spirit. The kind ...