The heavy footsteps retreated, grumbling as they faded down the corridor.
Isadora remained pressed against the wall, hardly daring to breathe. Who was Silas? His name wasn't one she had heard. He spoke with the authority of a handler, but his voice was different. It lacked the casual cruelty she'd come to expect.
She heard a single set of footsteps approaching now, slower, more deliberate. They stopped just a few feet from where she stood shivering in the dark.
She held her breath, waiting for the inevitable.
"You can come out of the shadows," the voice said. It was him. Silas. Calm, measured, and far too close. "Hoping the stone will swallow you whole is a poor strategy."
Slowly, Isadora forced her limbs to move. She pushed herself away from the wall and faced him.
