Richard’s Truths and Broken Doors

Richard arrived at Marcus’ mansion just as the sun was lowering itself behind the city skyline, throwing long, soft shadows across the yard. The light caught in the metallic bars of the gate and in the thin film of dust on the steps. He paused a fraction outside, hand on the iron, and breathed once, the inhale shaky with a tension he could no longer keep folded inside him.

He had rehearsed the words all morning in the car, had run them in the mirror at ...