Her spine went rigid, and her inner monologue kicked in: 'Seriously? Why is it always him?!'

Still, she forced a polite smile and looked up. "Uncle Samuel."

There he was, rocking his usual uniform—black button-up shirt, dark pants, zero personality. It was like he'd frozen his wardrobe in time years ago. Yet every time she saw him, it felt... weirdly intense, like a déjà vu she couldn’t shake.

"You here for something?" he asked, his voice ...