The Light Within (Shadow and Light Duology #2)

thirty

Julien

F rom the fountain on the lawn, Julien stared up at his father’s manor house, its darkened windows the hollow eyes in the face of a cold, unfeeling giant. The stone walls, once grand, now seemed to sag under the weight of decades of silence and gloom. There was no warmth in this place, no light or laughter had ever graced its halls. Julien’s only comfort was that, in a couple of hours from now, this would all be over. This would be the last time he’d ever set foot in this house, the place haunted by countless ghastly memories from his childhood and beyond.

The sky had deepened into a bruised purple, the last traces of daylight fading. Upon arriving at the airport, Julien discovered that there were no seats available on any flights to Paris that day. Consequently, he flew to Brussels and then transferred. It really wasn’t his day, as both seats ended up being economy. In hindsight, Julien should have driven the awful rental car all the way back, but he’d left it behind in case the others needed it. He really was a saint, truly.