The doctor’s breathing was uneven as I pulled him up by the collar again, but this time there was no confidence left in his eyes. Whatever arrogance he had carried into this house had been stripped away by pain, exposure, and the realization that he had misjudged the situation.
The room behind us had gone quiet.
Not peaceful quiet—dangerous quiet.
The kind of silence that forms when everyone is waiting for something worse to happen.
Elizabeth stood frozen near the couch, Eleanor still in her arms. Vinie was beside her, his posture rigid, his jaw clenched so tightly it looked like he might crack his own teeth. Delilah, now fully upright after the fall, kept her gaze shifting between the doctor, Miss Clara, and me, as if she was trying to piece together a puzzle that kept changing shape.
