The next morning, the rain had stopped, and the sky was a dreary gray.
Shallow puddles dotted the flagstone path of Wisteria Lane, reflecting the leaden-gray sky.
A few gray-feathered birds pecked at food scraps at the lane's entrance, taking flight with a flutter of wings as someone approached.
Ian pushed open the main gate. Gaga, perched on his shoulder, was a little unhappy.
"Ian... I want to go play too..."
"Be good. Help me watch over this place, especially the altar underground. I don't trust anyone else with it."
Ian coaxed softly, his gaze lifting toward the end of the street.
A wind funneled down the lane, carrying the damp chill of the recent rain and slipping past his collar.
He set off toward the Justice Clan's administrative hall.
Soon, he arrived before the clan's administrative hall.
It was unusually quiet today. The usual guards were not at the door.
