Your little brother, Kai, was a silent weight against your side in the passenger seat, his small fingers pressed against the cold window. His wide eyes tracked the towering hedges and the distant, lit windows of the manor.

You parked near the grand entrance. The manor’s massive oak door opened before you could even knock.

The interior was warm, smelling of old wood, polish, and the distant scent of pine from a decoration somewhere. Your footsteps and Kai’s quiet shuffles echoed in the vast hall.

The door to the east drawing room was ajar. Inside, a fire crackled in the hearth. Damian Wayne was standing by the window, his back to the door, looking out at the bleak grounds. He turned at the sound of your approach.