The Echoes we Bury
Elliot pressed.
No one answered.
They found Henry in the kitchen, his expression as calm and detached as ever. He was wiping his hands with a cloth, his movements methodical.
“There’s been an accident,” Elliot said, stepping into the room.
Henry looked up, his brow furrowing slightly. “An accident?”
“The man in the suit,” Elliot continued. “He’s dead. At the base of the stairs.”
Henry froze for just a fraction of a second. Then he folded the cloth and placed it neatly on the counter. “That is most unfortunate,” he said, his voice neutral.
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