The lawns are greener than green, the house looks like it receives a daily scrub down and even the gravel seems to receive daily maintenance. If the exterior is anything to go by, then I can't imagine the interior needing any work. I looked up at the dozens of sash bay windows, seeing soft curtains hanging from all of them. I'm tempted to call Herman to check I've got the right address, but it says The Country Hills on the gate. And that miserable sod on the other end of the intercom was obviously waiting for me.

As I pondered my next move, the doors opened, revealing the largest man...