Later that night, the mansion was quiet, the hallways lit only by the soft glow of sconces along the walls. For the first time, Nathan found himself in the kitchen, shrugging off his coat and rolling up his sleeves. The marble countertops gleamed under the pendant lights, the air carrying the faint scent of herbs from the garden outside.

He didn’t fully understand why he was here, why the thought of chicken soup had lodged itself in his mind so stubbornly. All he knew was that he needed to ...