Sunlight filtered through the grand windows of the Knight mansion, casting long shadows across the polished marble floor. The aroma of fresh coffee and sizzling bacon wafted from the kitchen as the staff moved with practiced efficiency. But the opulent dining room, usually bustling with the morning's first meal, lay silent and abandoned.

With his customary punctuality, Old Mr. Knight made his entrance, the rhythmic tap of his walking stick a staccato against the cold stone. He scanned the vacant expanse, lips pressed into a thin line, irritation clouding his aged eyes. Where the hell was everyone? He thought

"Mr. Knight, it's good to see you." Dora's voice cut through...