Samuil stops at the threshold. "Next time I text you---" His voice is soft but commanding. "---you will respond."
He's gone before he even hears me say, "Okay."
"What in the name of The Little Mermaid happened to you?"
Myles gawks at me, his eyes roaming up and down my ruined Brioni suit and then over my shoulder, following the trail of muddy footprints streaking across my mansion's Italian marble floors.
My housekeeper is going to weep when she sees the mess. Good thing I pay her enough to afford therapy.
I toss my waterlogged phone at him. "I'm gonna need you to do a full reboot."
Then I keep walking, forcing Myles to follow me. We stride through the atrium and into the west-facing living room, steadfastly ignoring the steely-eyed gazes of my ancestors glaring at us from their oil
