Under_The_Whispering_Door_by_TJ_Klune

but in danger of flickering out. I taught him how to harness it. People like
him, they’re rare. There’s beauty in the chaos, if you know where to look for
it. But you would know about that, wouldn’t you? You see it too.”
Wallace swallowed thickly. “He’s different.”
“That’s certainly one way to put it.” The boy kicked his feet again as he
settled back into the chair, hands on his stomach. “But yes, he is.”
The anger returned, burning the fear away. “And you did this to him.”
The boy arched an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”
Wallace’s hands balled into fists. “I’ve heard about you.”
“Oh boy,” he said. “This should be good. Go ahead. Tell me what you’ve
heard.”
“You make the ferry … people.”
“I do,” the boy said, “though I don’t want you thinking I pick them without
rhyme or reason. Certain people … well. They shine brightly. Hugo
happened to be one of them.”
Wallace clenched his jaw. “You’re supposed to be this … this thing—”
“Rude.”
“—this grand thing that oversees life and death, delegating the
responsibilities to others—”
“Well, yes. I’m the Manager. I manage.”
“—and you put the weight of death on someone like Hugo. You make him
see and do things that—”
“Whoa,” the boy said, sitting up quickly. “Hold on a second. I don’t make
anyone do anything. Goodness gracious, Wallace, what have they been
telling you about me?”
“You’re callous,” Wallace spat. “And cruel. How could you ever think
putting something like that on a man who’d just lost his family was the right
thing to do?”
“Hmm,” the boy said. “I think we’ve got our wires crossed somewhere.
That’s not the case at all. It’s a choice, Wallace. It all comes down to choice.
I didn’t force Hugo to do anything. I merely laid out the options before him
and let him make up his own mind.”
Wallace slammed his hands against the counter. “His parents had just
died. He was suffering. He was grieving. And you opened a door to show
him that there was something beyond what he knew. Of course he would take
what you offered. You preyed upon him when he was at his weakest, knowing