Under_The_Whispering_Door_by_TJ_Klune

exertion. Spit flew from his mouth. His throat hurt.
When he could scream no longer, he put his face in his hands, shoulders
shaking.
Hugo said, “It’s life, Wallace. Even when you’re dead, it’s still life. You
exist. You’re real. You’re strong and brave, and I’m so happy to know you.
Now, tell me what happened with Alan. All of it. Leave nothing out.”
Wallace told him everything.
The third stage of grief was bargaining, and it also came on the first night.
But it wasn’t Wallace who bargained.
It was Hugo.
He bargained by shouting, demanding the Manager show himself to
explain what the hell he’d meant. Mei stood speechless. She hadn’t said a
word since Hugo had told her and Nelson the truth. Nelson’s mouth was still
hanging open, hands curled tightly around his cane.
“I’m calling you,” Hugo snapped as he paced the main room of the tea
shop, glaring up at the ceiling. “I need to talk to you. I know you’re there.
You’re always there. You owe me this. I never ask for anything, but I’m
asking you to be here now. I’ll listen. I swear I’ll listen.”
Apollo trailed after him, back and forth, back and forth, ears alert as he
listened to his owner grow angrier.
Wallace tried to stop Hugo, tried to tell him that it was fine, that it was
okay, that he’d always known it would come to this. “This isn’t forever,” he
said. “You know that. You told me that. It’s a stop, Hugo. One stop on a
journey.”
But Hugo didn’t listen.
“Manager!” he cried. “Show yourself!”
The Manager didn’t come.
As the clock moved toward midnight, Mei convinced Hugo he needed to
sleep. He argued bitterly, but in the end, he agreed. “We’ll figure it out
tomorrow,” he told Wallace. “I’ll think of something. I don’t know what, but
I’ll figure it out. You aren’t going anywhere if you don’t want to.”
Wallace nodded. “Go to bed. The day starts early.”