Arlo was determined.

Every morning, he sits by the porch. It overlooked the entire field that gently sloped down until it's bordered by a dark forest.

From his spot, he could see everything.

It’s what Arlo always wanted, to stand above everything, a place where no one could touch him. A place where he could hover his hand over the heads of the people, and pretend that he was controlling them with a thread attached to his fingertips.

He sat there with an untouched coffee he brewed himself because of the absence of staff members in the villa.

With his elbows pressed against the chair’s armrest, he observed, he waited....