The Seventh Casing
I stepped around his frozen frame without another look at him, and turned toward the brightest lights in the room.
Evening air moved through the gallery of the hall and carried off the last trace of him, and with it the ten years of fixation and attachment I'd held.
Evan raised a hand to block all the prying eyes and spoke, flat, an authority in it that allowed no argument. "Show him out."
The guards moved in, no rough handling, but an overwhelming weight to them all the same, and closed around Dean.
He didn't struggle. He only stared at my back, the light in his eyes going out bit by bit, until there was nothing left but a vast gray despair.