Zechariah, meanwhile, had forgotten even breaking the news after all that blood. By God! Uriel? A drinking problem!?

He looked to and fro, as though hoping to find another gentleman just mosying about to do the doctor’s bidding instead. His gaze even passed onto Abraham, briefly.

That would take a lot of work.

… Was it worth it to spite Kitty? Perhaps.

Grudgingly, Zechariah carefully moved to the tale edge farthest from the blood. He scooted it forward with his hip, reluctantly.

Blood sloshed over the edge toward the others, like the red sea.