The loyal butler of house Evans stood behind Cynthia's ever closed door now, the man who held a tray of Cynthia's favorite light food pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose with his free hand, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath.
'Lord almighty, please let her have a few bites of this today,'
His hand that descended to hold the door knob was trembling, and it was not of old age, but of concern to the lady that was vanishing before his eyes. In the old man's worst nightmares, she either dropped down dead next to him or disappeared like a ghost into thin air.
He gulped down and took another settling breath before offering another prayer for the girl he loved like his own daughter.
'My dear lord, bring that little boy back to his mother, fix what has been broken in this house for only you are capable of such a miracle,'
"Alfred…" George said in a low tone. "…I will carry this inside,"
