The wind moved, stirring the coldness it was carrying while not sparing any uncovered surface. Henry James also felt the cold, but he knew that soon, he would not feel it anymore, not suffer from it anymore with his old body full of hidden wounds, so he didn't care enough to react.
When he heard nothing from Daemon over the phone, he continued talking:
"Twenty-seven years ago, on the beginning afternoon of January 9… I already had an invitation to the Section before your mother… before Rachelle discovered the pregnancy."
Henry James' smile softened:
"Rachelle Adleid… Her heart, it has always been too soft. Ten months feeling torn between responsibility and desire, between her, and the dark blood full of ambition in my veins. She saw it all, and she made the choice for me the day you were born. The Section does not tolerate any attachment. So you should be hating me, and killing me is your right."
