Grandma,” Julian said, turning to me with a smile that showed too many teeth. His voice dripped with a faux sweetness that made my stomach turn. “We decided to skip the song. It’s too loud for you, isn’t it? The doctor said overstimulation is bad for your… condition.”

He didn’t wait for an answer. He never did anymore. He snapped his fingers at the man standing in the shadows—Mr. Henderson, the family lawyer. Henderson looked sweaty, clutching his briefcase like a shield. He knew what was happening tonight was morally gray, perhaps even black, but Julian paid his retainer.