Xander lay on his bed in Ironwood Hall, staring blankly at the ceiling above him.
The dark, silent night weighed heavily on his chest, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't shake off the suffocating emptiness gnawing at his insides.
His body felt heavy, depleted, as though every ounce of energy had been drained from him.
He hadn't moved in hours, except to shift slightly in his bed, his mind too overwhelmed to focus on anything else.
On the desk beside him sat a crumpled letter, the wax seal broken, its once neat folds now carelessly undone.
Xander's eyes flickered toward the letter, though he wasn't sure why he kept it in sight.
It was as if its very presence taunted him, reminding him of the words he couldn't escape.
He closed his eyes and sighed deeply. Despite his efforts to avoid it, his thoughts inevitably drifted back to the contents of the letter.
