Solomon sat in his study, the moon using the grand windows behind him to cast its light across the room. The city was gearing up for another bright night, the lights going on one after the other.
For Solomon, his mind was somewhere else, spiraling through possibilities, plans, and outcomes. The scent of blood wine lingered in the air, barely touched. He had spent the past few days searching for Ezra, pouring resources into finding the one man who seemed to have disappeared from the face of the earth.
A sharp knock on the door pulled him out of his thoughts and Michael stepped into the room, his face grim but composed.
"News?" Solomon asked, not even looking up.
"Yes, my Lord," Michael replied, closing the door behind him and standing at attention. "We have reports. The police have shot and killed Ezra Matten in a public confrontation earlier today."
Solomon paused for a moment, the words sinking in. His eyes narrowed as he processed the information.
