Luca did not sleep particularly well that night.
It was not because anything had happened. In fact, that was precisely the problem. After hearing the distant bell from somewhere deep within Beastridge, his mind had refused to let the matter go, endlessly turning over the sound and searching through memories that were several lifetimes old. He had heard it before. He knew that much. Yet the memory remained frustratingly incomplete, like a page torn from a book and buried somewhere beneath years of forgotten details.
He remembered a bell.
He remembered hearing it somewhere in Beastridge.
And he remembered that, at the time, it had meant almost nothing.
That was the part that bothered him.
