James Harlow sat in the backseat of his car, his fingers tapping absently on the armrest. He stared out of the window as the city of Faewall passed by in a blur, the streets drenched in mist.
Beside him, Alfred, his loyal driver and right hand man, remained focused on the road as he drove, his face a mask of calm professionalism.
James was looking out at the city but he wasn't seeing it. He had received a message. A message from Hyde.
Everyone and their grandmothers knew Hyde was dead. Had known for days. And yet, when the mysterious message had arrived, he hadn't hesitated. There were too many pieces in motion, too many shadows moving in the dark. He had to see this through.
The car eventually slowed as they approached their destination. An old, crumbling chapel on the outskirts of the city. This was where the message had directed him to.
