"Grandpa Starveil, where's breakfast?" Alistair asked as he entered the dining room, only to find the table suspiciously empty—a rare sight indeed.
"None today, my boy. Hospital tests require fasting. Don't tell me you forgot?" Starveil's eyes twinkled with amusement, his wrinkled face smug as a cat with cream. "I distinctly mentioned it in your room yesterday."
Alistair bit back a groan. Probably another vital detail buried in Starveil's mind-numbing chatter—one he'd expertly ignored. Too exhausted to argue, he surrendered to his breakfast-less fate, though last night's ordeal left his stomach growling louder than Starveil's droning.
During the drive, the old man's chatter became relentless—words firing like bullets even as he navigated traffic. Between the verbal assault and his hollo
