#Chapter 92: The Greenhouse
Arthur
Arthur slammed the journal down onto Noah’s desk. Despite all the information in there, there hadn’t been mention of where he was keeping Almara. Arthur hadn’t really expected that to be in the journal since he was pretty sure it was a type of torture, but the hope had been there all the same.
Perhaps it had been foolish, but Arthur just couldn’t help it. He missed Almara so much and he was desperate to find her. He needed her and the baby home and safe. Foolish hope was all that he had left.
A sound by the window had his head snapping toward it. It had sounded suspiciously like a laugh and Arthur didn’t think it had been the wind. There wasn’t anything on in the house either.
He rushed to the window and pushed it open, sticking his head out. There wasn’t anybody there. His eyes strained in the dark, but he couldn’t see any sign of anyone. He was about to pull back when something stopped him.
Arthur's senses sharpened as he caught the unmistakable scent of Noah in the crisp

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