Present

Christopher Dawson

I add more wood to the fire and poke it—Embers rise, stinging my eyes. Mary lays on a fur rug closest to the fire. She’s entranced by the rising flames. ‘Immortal.’ Mary is immortal. Allison had children with someone, and those children had more children, and so on. And here I am, in a room with one of those descendants. ‘Are they all immortal?’ Did having a new family help Allison move past her old one?

The castle was constructed way ...