The storm raged on, relentless and fierce, as if testing the resolve of anyone foolish enough to stand against it.

Altsin and Hadwin braced themselves against the downpour, their figures blurred by the sheets of rain.

Hadwin held an umbrella over Altsin, but the gusting wind nearly ripped it from his grasp. The umbrella strained under the force, and Hadwin, soaked to the bone, couldn’t help but plead.

“Mr. Sullivan, let’s head back to the car. This storm is too much!”

Hadwin felt utterly miserable. In his mind, he was screaming: Winning back a wife is one thing, but risking your life? Why provoke Mother Nature?

Altsin stood unmoving, his...