DAYS passed since the tension between Oswald and his parents reached a boiling point. He had buried himself in work, he and his parents, still not on talking terms, his interactions with Orlanda limited to the necessary exchanges, there had also been no cause for alarm suspecting she was an agent of Carlson or his accomplice, although that doesn't mean he still wasn't being watchful, he was. But tonight, as he descended the grand staircase of his mansion, a new plan was forming in his mind as usual, one that would test the limits of Orlanda’s patience and resilience.
The dining room was already set when Oswald entered, his sharp eyes taking in the perfectly arranged table. The scent of a meticulously prepared meal wafted through the air, but it did nothing to stir his appetite. Instead, a
