Morning broke Slate and pale across the moors. The mist clung low to the earth like a burial cloak. Inside Ashcroft Manor, Dr. Elias Wren sat at his office, unmoving, eyes fixed upon the last line he'd written. Soon it'll lead. The words mocked him in his own script, though his mind could n't recall forming them. He felt as though two hands guided the same pen — his and commodity differently's