Carl had stared at the small corner of the newspaper all morning. When he had first laid eyes upon it he had thrown it down in a rage, though he had known the moment one of his staff entered the office with a wan face. He had always known.
Surrounded by the headlines of local politics, celebrity gossip, and the economy was a lone paragraph in a box. It read: ‘Prominent Grove Street member killed in altercation.’
Sweet was dead.
He had read the words over and over again, torn between disbelief and a twisted sense of relief. The seemingly inevitable had finally come to pass, and yet the loss brought on a keen, almost physical pain. His thoughts drifted back to the last great tragedy of his short life.
It had been nine years since Brian died. The distance seemed strange, even unsettling. Now Carl found himself in surroundings he could not have imagined; he had been on a journey at once amazing and impossible, certainly for someone of his upbringing. Death pr