Under_The_Whispering_Door_by_TJ_Klune

“Obviously,” Nelson said. He reached up and grabbed Wallace’s hand,
squeezing it tightly. Wallace didn’t try to pull away. He told himself the old
man needed it. It was the least he could do.
The porch creaked as someone climbed the stairs. Wallace strained to
hear voices, but no one was talking. He found that odd. With him, Mei had
chattered the whole way down the road, even if it’d been because of
Wallace’s countless questions. The fact that no one spoke unsettled him.
Three taps on the door. The knocker. A beat of nothing, and then the door
opened.
Mei entered first, a grim smile fixed on her face that didn’t reach her eyes.
She was paler than normal, her lips a thin slash with a hint of white teeth.
She took in the room, starting with Hugo, then Nelson, Wallace, and Apollo.
The dog tried to rise to go to her, but she shook her head, and he whined as
he settled back on his haunches. Nelson squeezed Wallace’s hand again.
If asked, Wallace wouldn’t have been sure who he was expecting to walk
in after her. The tea had given him a clue, but it was a small one, and he
couldn’t find a way to make it fit into the larger picture. The bitterness, harsh
and biting, followed by grass like a field, and the finale of honey, so cloying
it stuck in his throat.
Perhaps someone angry, more than he’d been. Someone shouting, filled
with rage at the unfairness of it all. Wallace could certainly understand that.
Hadn’t he done the same? He thought it was part of the process, being firmly
planted in denial and anger.
Whatever he thought, the man who entered Charon’s Crossing this night
was not what he expected. He was younger, for one, probably early twenties.
He wore a loose black shirt over jeans with the knees torn out. His blond
hair was long, messily swept back off his forehead as if he’d continuously
been running his hands through it. His eyes were dark and glittering, his face
a mask stretched tightly over bone. The man was unnerving as he took in the
room before him, the light dim, gaze settling only briefly on Nelson and
Apollo. He stared for a long moment at Wallace. His lips twitched like he
was fighting back a terrible smile. His hand rubbed at his chest, and Wallace
was startled when he realized he couldn’t see the hook in his chest, the cable
that should have stretched to Hugo. He didn’t know why he hadn’t considered
it before. Did Nelson have one? Apollo? Mei?