Kael dropped down into the cellar, listening for the boy's quick footsteps in the shallow puddles.
They had come to a stop now, but it didn't take long to realize that this room was very small.
The walls closed in around him uncomfortably. He had to crouch beneath the ceiling just to walk forward.
He slowed. The boy was already crouched in a corner, watching him from behind a pile of soaked blankets.
Kael didn't move closer. He knelt slowly, inspecting the room. "Why did you bring me here?
Still no reply.
Kael narrowed his eyes. "What the hell is this place?"
The boy watched him…and smiled for the first time. Not warmly. But knowingly.
And then he spoke one word:
"Home."
"You've been living here?" Kael asked, noticing a pile of rotten food sitting in a corner. "For how long?"
The boy didn't move from his corner, but Kael noticed something new in his posture now. The stillness wasn't fear—it was anticipation.
