Amelia's heart pounded against her ribs as Evelyn Thorne, the historian, scrutinized her with a gaze as sharp as a hawk's. The air in the library crackled with tension, broken only by the soft tick of an ancient grandfather clock in the corner.
"Amelia Blackwood," Evelyn finally spoke, her voice low and raspy like dry leaves rustling in the wind. "A name I haven't heard in quite some time. What brings you to this… unassuming abode?"
Amelia straightened her back, forcing a smile. "I apologize for the intrusion, Ms. Thorne. We… came seeking information."
Evelyn raised an eyebrow, a flicker of amusement playing on her lips. "Information? About what, exactly?"
Amelia hesitated, unsure how much to reveal. But Victor's life hung in the balance. "About the Blackwood family history," she said
