Bryte found himself holding his breath as she spoke, taking in the story with a mixed excitement and dread. Could this be it? Could she know something? The first dream was strange, he noted. It was not a vision of precisely what had happened, but the idea was there, was solid: The baby leaving her body had been the death of her. He dared not hope, yet he could not stop himself. He was truly sorry for her, but he was also excited, so very excited. This was the closest thing he had come to an answer in a very long time.
"The One True God blesses and burdens each of us with a gift. Prophesy is rare, but it is not unheard of," he said quietly and sagely, words much more blunt than those his father would have ever used. It was a shame, mixing pretty words, Bryte was fairly sure, had been the death of the man. "I am sorry for what you saw, and for what you have been through." He took a deep breath and leaned back in his chair, folding his hands on top of his desk, his bright eyes turning a shade darker with warring emotions.
"He died in his office," he announced with his usual bluntness. "I found him the next morning. The police could find no explanation for his death. He suffered trauma, but there was no reason for it. To them it was just another strange case in a file, he was dead and there were no leads, so it was closed easily enough. But for me... he was my father," Bryte tried to explain, a sharp spike of pain flashing through his eyes as his voice grew slightly more thin. "I've been looking for answers for so long. I don't... mean to make you relive things you would sooner forget, but..." But he was pleading, as much as he could without being on his knees. He wanted to know, he needed to know. "If the One True God gave you such a gift, if you know something that could help me..." He trailed off. There were no words for what that would mean to him. He only hoped she could understand. Sean had been a good man, he had not deserved to die so young, or in the very strange way he did.