In the evening, Damian returned from work, shoulders tight from the long day. He tossed his suit jacket across the couch and headed straight into his bathroom. As the hot water steamed up the glass, he stood under the shower, letting it run over his face, hoping it would wash off the stress.

Halfway through freshening up, his phone started buzzing on the counter.

He checked the caller ID.

Grandma Eleanor.

Damian sighed, grabbed a towel, and answered.

“Good evening, Grandma.”

Her voice came sharp and emotional right from the first second.

“Damian Cross, what nonsense am I hearing? What exactly is happening in that house of yours?”

Damian blinked,...