Morrel walked slowly through the streets of Paris, his mind churning with thoughts he desperately needed to sort through alone. He'd just left the Count of Monte Cristo's estate, and though he had plenty of time to reach his destination, as the Villefort mansion was only a short walk away, he deliberately slowed his pace.
He knew Valentine's schedule by heart. Right now, she'd be feeding her grandfather his breakfast, a sacred routine no one dared interrupt. Noirtier and Valentine had granted him permission to visit twice a week, and today was one of those precious days.
When he arrived, Valentine was waiting for him, but something was wrong. Her usual composure had cracked. She grabbed his hand with trembling fingers and practically dragged him to her grandfather's room. Her anxiety bordered on panic.
