I knew he was. I had messaged him back in advance, but it seemed polite to ask. She nodded, flipped the counter for me to squeeze through and pointed to the back room. "He's in the kitchen. Kindly tell him that if what was in the fridge was for him, I would have put his name on it."

I promised I would and made my way into the back. The kitchen was a cosy little slab that seemed to merge between a modern home and industrial. There was a walk-in freezer that Deacon had joked that they stored the bodies of all those that they had cursed—he kept mocking me...