Current day
I gently knead the aching muscles and tendons of my injured leg while trying to push the ache aside at the sight of the black gates of Monroe's home. The effects of the ibuprofen wore off an hour ago and I need to get out of the car and stretch my leg. Taking pain pills was impossible because I wanted to drive and now I'm paying the price. The gates open and I feel a sense of returning home. It's been this way since my first visit. Even the sight of the ever dour Stephens opening the front door lightens my grumpy, pain-induced mood.
"Good evening, sir. Master Nathanial is on the phone. I will assist you to your room. Do you require a snack before the evening meal?"
It took me a few years to get over Stephens' stiff upper lip and understand the hidden humor behind his uptight
