Mark's hands trembled as he stared at the letter, his fingers tracing the unfamiliar handwriting. It was as if a ghost from the past had suddenly materialized in his quiet, orderly life. He hadn't heard from Robert in what felt like forever, and boy, their last run-in?As Mark's eyes darted across the page, his face was like a mood ring on steroids. One second he looked like he'd seen a ghost, the next like he'd won the lottery, then like he'd remembered he left the stove on. But the kicker? Robert was coming to visit. Yeah, that Robert.Now, you'd think Mark would slam the door shut on this walking disaster, right? But nope. He decided to invite Robert to the Red House. It was like inviting a bull into a china shop, but Mark felt he had to do it.The days leading up to Robert's arrival? Man, it was like watching a pressure cooker about to blow. On the surface, everything seemed normal, but underneath? It was like a shark circling just below the waves. Mark, usually cool as a cucumber, was suddenly jumpier than a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs.The staff? They were exchanging looks like they were in on some secret conspiracy. They'd never seen Mark like this before. It was like Robert's impending arrival had peeled back all those layers of Mark's carefully built facade, revealing a guy they barely recognized.And let me tell you, Mark's nervousness? It spread through that house faster than gossip at a small-town barbershop. The cook, who could usually whip up a five-course meal blindfolded, suddenly couldn't even handle toast without turning it into charcoal. The gardener? He was so distracted he made the hedges look like they'd been trimmed by Edward Scissorhands on a bender.As Robert's arrival crept closer, the tension in the Red House cranked up to eleven. Mark's distraction morphed into full-blown anxiety, like watching a car crash in slow motion. He'd snap over the tiniest things, then apologize like his life depended on it two seconds later. The poor staff were trying their best to get ready for the visitor, but with Mark's behavior? It was like trying to nail jelly to a wall. He'd give an order, then change his mind faster than a chameleon changes colors. The guest room? Prepared, re-prepared, then prepared again. The welcome dinner menu?Through all this chaos, questions were hanging in the air like the smell of burnt toast. What the heck had gone down between these brothers to cause such a rift? Why was Robert showing up now, after all this time?As the sun dipped below the horizon on the eve of Robert's arrival, the Red House was like a theater just before curtain call. The stage was set, the actors were in place, and tomorrow? It was showtime. A reunion that promised to change everything.Just as the house settled into an uneasy quiet, a car pulled up outside. Wait, wasn't Robert supposed to arrive tomorrow? As soon as Bill stepped out of his car, he felt it. Something was off. The Red House, usually warm and inviting, seemed to be holding its breath.