Elsewhere, Damian sat alone on the back porch of the Drake family mansion, a notebook open on his lap. The pencil in his hand moved slowly, sketching the interior of the café—long wooden tables, large windows, industrial pendant lights. Everything was already clear in the man's mind.

"Damian!"

Tamara's voice broke the silence. The woman came in carrying two cups of coffee, then sat down next to Damian.

“Good morning, Tamara,” Damian replied, closing his notebook.

“You were ...