Drama at the Courthouse

DESTINY

It was late evening when we made our way back home. The violet sky overcast with gray clouds hanging low signaled the promise of snow. Winter has finally arrived.

Lord Barrington seemed reluctant to let us leave, finding many excuses to keep us there. The aroma of a delicious lunch drifted through the air, enticing us to stay. As the hours passed, lunch turned into dinner, filling the grand dining room with the clinking of cutlery and the soft murmur of conversation. Afterwards, the staff brought us steaming cups of tea, accompanied by the sweet aroma of freshly baked biscuits. I couldn’t resist.

It was as if Lord Barrington didn't want to be left alone in that massive, eerie mansion. And honestly, I couldn't blame him. The place felt haunted, even if I didn't believe in such things.

At least there was some semblance of harmony between James and his father. They engaged in polite conversation, discussing minor matters instead of arguing. It was a significant improvement, and