Under_The_Whispering_Door_by_TJ_Klune

the bottom of Alan’s feet. Before Wallace could open his mouth, Alan rose
swiftly, passing through the doorway. The light pulsed before it faded. The
door slammed shut. It took only seconds.
“He’ll find peace,” the boy said. “With time, he’ll find himself again.” He
turned and sank to the floor, legs crossed in front of him. He looked up at
Wallace still standing near the stairs.
“What did you do?” Wallace whispered.
“Helped him along his journey,” the boy said. “I find that sometimes
people need a little push in the right direction.”
“What happened to free will?”
The boy grinned. It chilled Wallace to the bone. “You’re smarter than I
gave you credit for. Fun! Think of it as … hmm. Ah. Think of it as a gentle
nudge in the right direction. Can’t have him turning into a Husk. I don’t like to
think what that would do to Hugo. Not again. He took it so hard the first time.
It’s why I’ve allowed Nelson and Apollo to stay as long as they have, to keep
him from abandoning his calling.”
“So we only have free will until … what? It interferes with your order?”
The Manager chuckled. “Precisely! Good for you, Wallace. Order is
absolutely paramount. Without it, we’d be stumbling in the dark. Which
brings me to you. You’ve been here a long time, much longer than any other
aside from Nelson and Apollo. And for what? Do you even know? What is
your purpose?”
Wallace felt like he was on fire. “I…”
“Yes,” the Manager said. “I thought as much. Let me help you answer that.
Your being here makes you a distraction in ways Nelson and Apollo aren’t.
A distracted ferryman is one who’ll make mistakes. Hugo has a job to do,
one that is far more important than his feelings.” He grimaced. “Terrible
things, those. I’ve watched and waited, allowing this farce of a happy little
home to play out, but it’s time to move things along to ensure Hugo does what
he was hired to do.” He grinned. “Which is why I’m going to tell you what’ll
happen next.”
Wallace didn’t like the sound of that. “What?”
The boy cocked his head as he studied Wallace. “How to put this in ways
you can understand. How … to … put—Ah!” He clapped his hands. “You’re
a lawyer.” His lips quirked. “Well, you were. I’m like you, in a way. Death,
my dear man, is the law, and I’m the judge. There are rules and regulations.