The empty rooms inside Mrs. Morton’s house felt large and cold. The empty space inside her chest felt larger and colder, and filled with a terrible draft.
“You know what it’s like,” he finally said, “to have a fox show up out of nowhere and start talking to you?”
“I didn’t rescue you so you could go without marshmallows, Morry.”
Early on in his training, he spent his nights with other novices, scraping away at the low-life creatures that clung like barnacles to the edges of darkness. He then spent his days doing data entry.
