I remain frozen in place as the sound of the door shutting behind Isola lingers in the air, sharp and final like punctuation on a conversation left unfinished. My hands itch with the need to do something, anything, besides hanging uselessly by my sides as Alistair fixes me with his gaze.

Moving with that almost unnerving elegance he's mastered, Alistair stands from his chair. Every gesture of his is measured, calm—but there’s always the question of whether the calm hides ...