By 5:00 on the dot, the apartment was filled with life once again. Dull golden light filtered through the windows, bouncing off every reflective surface, especially the mirror.
The soft clinking of plates and low humming filled the kitchen area. Benson was rinsing plates in the sink, while Rose had started preparing dinner as she set the table.
Another voice came from the TV, reporting on the weather and a missing dog near the tunnels that led outside the city walls.
As suspicious as that sounded, Dorian didn't bother to let his mind dwell on matters that were either unexplainable or trivial.
At least not now.
He sat cross-legged on the warm rug at the center of the living room, surrounded by a mess of half-open folders, books, sealed documents, blueprint scrolls, and building layouts.
