XANDER
The drive over to the house was long. By the time I arrive, Enzo is standing by the door, starched and straight as always.
He opens the door and places his folded hands behind his back again.
"Good evening, Xander." He greets.
I nod and pass him by. He follows behind me. "Where's Father?'
"In his study. Although your mother has asked that you stop by the garden to speak to her."
I stop and glare at him, my head buzzing with something more than anger. I know it's pain, but I refuse to give it voice. "What did you say?"
"Your father's worried. He knows you're angry, and you know his condition. Therefore, your mother has asked that you speak to her first."
Enzo has his hand behind his back, as I've always seen him, but today is the first time that there's been a challenge in hi
