Lucien sent Cynthia back to her residence, gave the doctor a brief instruction, and drove off without paying attention to the voices calling after him.
The rain grew heavier. The windshield wipers moved in a frantic rhythm, yet they could not clear the torrent streaming across the glass.
Outside, the world was a blur, but he had no mind to look at it.
His mind kept replaying the scene before he left home.
Aurelia had collapsed on the floor, blood still seeping from the wound at her temple, the vivid red stinging his eyes.
Yet her gaze toward him had been unnervingly calm, like a stagnant pool.
She had not been like this before.
Whenever she was wronged, she would cry and cling to him, refusing to let go until he comforted her.
Even if he only casually handed her some small trinket,
