Chapter 121 The Unspoken Tongue

• The corridor was silent apart from the gentle thump of Brayden's sneakers on the costly Persian rug. His small hand was clenched into a resolute fist as he approached the imposing wooden door at the corridor's end—the one that opened to his grandfather’s office. The overhead light flickered dimly, creating long, dancing shadows that appeared to stretch and murmur along the walls.
• His heart was still pounding from the previous night.
• He did not have a good night's sleep.