The silence left in Isaac’s wake filled the expansive office like water filling a reservoir, and like water, it threatened to drown Aldric where he sat. Thoughts rushed about like currents in a great sea, pulling him with them, spinning him about in little eddies that went nowhere, crushing him under their weight before threatening to pull him apart.
How was it possible? How had he survived? Were they talking to him too? Were they protecting him? Why had they not told Aldric? Was there more to this than his plan? Was Margaret behind this? Why couldn’t the stupid fucker die?