Cassian's last words hung in the silence of the study.
The body of that thirteen-year-old boy seemed to have sucked all the air from the room with the inconceivable weight of the story it carried.
For a moment, Fredrinn was at a loss for words.
The fear and mistrust he had felt toward the being before him now gave way to a complex and unsettling emotion.
It was not pity; rather, it was a profound astonishment and anger at how cruel the world could be.
It was Fredrinn who finally broke the silence. His voice came out huskier and more sincere than usual.
"You've lived a hard life," he said, choosing his words with care. "I would offer you comfort, but... I'm not good at comforting people."
"Though," he added, looking into Cassian's red eyes, "I don't suppose you're in need of any comfort."
The boyish expression on Cassian's face vanished, replaced once again by that familiar, indifferent smile.
He shrugged as if he hadn't just laid bare the darkest corners of his soul.
