Roman sat stiffly on the black leather armchair, arms crossed over his chest, listening as Williams laid out the facts with grim focus. His voice was low, tense with frustration.
"We're looking for a witch," Williams said. "One with powers similar to mine and my mother's. He or she was also in Casper's camp before he slipped into that coma."
Roman's sharp gaze never wavered. He didn't interrupt, and for once, Williams was glad his notoriously short attention span was fixed squarely on him. He figured the tension between Roman and Tessy might be to thank for that. Whatever the reason, he was grateful.
"I've gone through everything, Rome," Williams continued, hands clenching into fists. "Every record. Every witch I could find. Nothing. No trace of the one who did this. It's like the person vanished into thin air."
