Suddenly, the heavy bolt on the other side of the door made a sound.
Both Fenri and Sylvie froze, their breaths catching in their throats when the door slowly swung wide open with a heavy groan.
Marta stepped out first. Her apron was soaked in blood—far too much blood for one girl. She didn't look at them, she simply kept her head down, her hands shaking as she gripped a bowl of black, stained water.
"Marta?" Fenri stepped forward, his heart hammering against his ribs. "Is she... is it over?"
Marta stopped. She looked up, and the look in her eyes was one of pure, hollow terror. She looked at Sylvie, then at Fenri, and then back at the room behind her.
"She lives," Marta whispered.
She moved past them quickly, her footsteps echoing down the hall.
Fenri didn't wait. He immediately
