He almost, almost answered unkindly, but then his gaze rose to the sky where the sun was soon to finish its descent. Soon, it would be Shabbat. If there was no other day to observe a kinder, Godlier life, Shabbos was the time to be at one’s best.

The wallpapers were dark and drab, as was the style – though all the lights were already lit. Though illuminated and with the occasional curio here and there, there was something very staged about the home.

“Thank you,” he said, then gestured in to the parlor where his brother was. “Shabbat Shalom.”

And thank God for sending him a way to distract Uriel.

Zechariah took the opportunity to whisk off to his office and put the papers away.