~Narrator's~

“Mark my words, Leo. That boy will snap again.”

The screen flickers slightly as Mrs. Cuss adjusts her position. Her sharp features cast in soft daylight that does nothing to soften the blade of her voice. Her pearls are perfectly knotted at the throat, and her wine-colored blouse sits crisp against a cold-boned frame that hasn't aged, just calcified.

Leo is standing in the hallway near the east wing. He stares at the screen with one hand on his hip, his phone propped against a decorative vase on the console table.

“He’s not a boy,” Leo says, calmly, plainly. “He’s a grown man trying to change.”

Mrs. Cuss scoffs....