But there was the pull now—it felt like gravity. Something so subtle and constant that it lives in your bones and your body can do nothing but obey its rules. Ford had become that for me. And I told myself that the more time I spent there, the greater the chance I might have to pull back the veil. He was just a man, wasn’t he? As broken and as flawed as anyone. I’d uncover all those messy pieces, and the spell would be broken.
