"William Foster's consciousness drifted aimlessly in the darkness. He didn't know how much time had passed before he finally came to a stop. A faint flame burned in the darkness, warming his soul and gradually restoring a sliver of his awareness.

  “Mr. Harris, how is my son?”

  An anxious voice echoed in the darkness, seeming both near and far.

  “Whose voice is that? Why does it feel so familiar, so full of longing?”

  William Foster thought in a daze. Before he could find the answer, he heard another elderly voice in the darkness. That voice carried humility and respect as it replied, “Madam, the young lord suffered a blow to the head and lost consciousness. He just needs some rest, and he’ll be fine.”