Aron stepped inside the hall, scanning the room until his eyes landed on the two people he needed to speak with. But just as he began to move toward them, he hesitated.
The look on the young master's face... it reminded me of the one he wore at the Stern family party that night, Aron thought. No… this time, it was worse. Much worse.
His feet rooted in place, he questioned himself. Should I go after him? Be there with him, right now?
Before he could decide, both of Sam's parents noticed the sharply dressed young man standing near the entrance. He stood with perfect posture, his tailored black suit catching the light in a way that made it seem to shimmer, even among the sea of dark mourning clothes.
"Excuse me," Sam's father said gently as he approached. "Are you… the one? A boy told us someone might come speak with us, after the service."
The words pulled Aron from his spiraling thoughts. He straightened up and offered a polite, practiced smile.
