Micah stood stiffly at the door, eyelids twitching as his gaze swept the dimly lit room. He flicked his eyes toward the butler standing beside him, face twisting with disbelief. "Grandpa Sunny," Micah asked slowly, his voice full of incredulity. "This is really the room?"
The butler shifted his weight uneasily. His usually composed demeanour cracked, and he averted his eyes slightly as though embarrassed by the truth.
"Young master," he began cautiously, "the other rooms have not been aired in a long time. This was the only one available." He really was innocent. He had been halfway through cleaning the second-floor room when the old madam changed her mind and ordered him to prepare this one instead. But he knew better than to tell the young master. With Micah's temper, a truth like that would have caused an outburst. No one in the Ramsy household wanted to offend this big Buddha. His wrath had been notorious for years.
