As Uncle Kent lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling, he heard a faint knock on the door. He sighed and rolled over, not feeling too well to answer the door, but the knocking continued with whosoever it was persistent, as it kept growing louder and more insistent.

He finally decided to answer the door, even though his body ached with every movement —it wasn't even up to twelve hours since he was put away from the life monitor. When he opened the door, he saw a package on the doorstep. He ...