When the dancing began, Emery escaped to the terrace. Night had crept in while they were talking and eating. A hundred stars winked down on him from the sky. He wasn’t interested in stargazing tonight, however.

He slipped down the stairs and made his way once more to the front garden. There, he settled on the grass, obscured by bushes on both sides. He closed his eyes and set his hands on the tiled walkway. The tiles were cold from the evening air and smooth, almost slick. He could imagine how the winter weather would soon make the walkway treacherous.

He breathed out slowly, opening the doors of his mind. If there was a traumatic event in the past, he would see it.