It was dark in the dungeon, as was the tradition. The suffering of Declan’s mind extended to the rest of his being. It wasn’t a dungeon in the traditional sense, his house wasn’t that old, but his office could sometimes feel like it. Especially when he had to be so isolated.

The knock came lightly on the door, pattering like spring rain. Even Jones knew better than to be jarring when Declan was in a stupor. It didn’t happen often, but when it did, the entire house went ...