Matthew Ryder watched in silence as the hands of the clock inched round to eleven, narrowing like the blades on a set of garden shears. Uncomfortable in an unaccustomed charcoal suit and sombre tie, the young man's head was bowed to stare at a pair of black patent leather shoes in which it was almost possible to make out his handsome yet grave features. At the tender age of seventeen, the loss of a father was a heartbreaking wrench, particularly when he was the only family the inexperienced boy had ever known. Yet that was about to change dramatically with the...
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