In the mansion, Milo trailed after Roderick for most of the afternoon, the rope between their wrists tugging taut every time Roderick's stride outpaced his own, which was often.
He'd known that Roderick handled security, but he hadn't understood, until now, exactly how much that meant.
The man checked in with every guard rotation, reviewed the cameras many times, adjusted patrol routes, and inspected places Milo never expected.
Milo never knew how big the Portello business was. And he just realized how dangerous and risky the job was, even for the guards outside the mansion.
And Roderick managed them all while dragging Milo through hallways and courtyards. Sometimes he forgot Milo was tied to him.
By the time evening finally rolled around, Milo's legs ached and his head throbbed faintly from the sheer volume of information he'd absorbed: supply routes, guard names, code words he definitely wasn't supposed to remember.
It was too much.
