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TWENTY
DIMITRI'S POV Did I count my chicks before they hatched? I wondered as I walked with purpose into the crypt. The cold air wrapped around me with a death-like embrace. The dim light from the torches cast eerie shadows on the stone walls, revealing the morbid nature of the crypt. The scent of dampness and decay hung in the air and I felt my stomach twist and turn. It wasn't the foul air. It was the extinguishment of my hope. I acted nonchalant when this happened. It had become a routine. We would find a healer only for the whole thing to come crumbling down. But I had believed in the nurse. With most healers I had encountered, the adverse reaction was almost immediate. But Hector Menard had been fine for more than nine hours. Why did it have to fail? What kind of cruel test had the gods
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