Two hours later…
——
Leon raised his glass and downed the remaining amber liquid in one sharp swallow.
Then he dropped the glass on the table beside the whiskey bottle. It was nearly empty now, containing only a shallow, golden puddle at the bottom.
For someone who claimed not to drink, he was responsible for almost the entire bottle, having spent the last hour working through it.
He exhaled and leaned back on the leather sofa, then tilted his head back and just stared vacantly at the high ceiling.
He was lost in his thoughts, or rather, it would be more accurate to say that a memory that had always been suppressed was now playing out before his eyes.
With the help of the pendant on the table, the details were clear, and unlike before, the ache he felt in his head whenever this memory surfaced was now somewhat bearable.
He could now see the man shrouded in light.
