The Larson Manor blazed with light.

Servants bustled around, balancing steaming platters of tonics and delicacies—a grand spread that overflowed across the long dining table.

Grandma Larson presided over dinner like a hawk.

Fearing her grandson might lack vitality at night, she had the kitchen prepare a freshly stewed snapping turtle just for him, while Selena’s bowl brimmed with a thick tonic specially tailored for a woman’s vitality. With ...