John looked up at Aurora and gave her a questioning look. "You're up and about," he observed.
Eleanor's eyes widened in alarm as she saw her daughter standing there when she was meant to be resting in bed. "Aurora, the physician said you needed your rest. Please, go back to bed," she pleaded, her tone laced with worry. She held a basket filled with herbs in her hand.
Aurora, still processing the recent event, didn't hear her mother. Meanwhile, John, who was thirsty, made his way to the kitchen for a glass of water. Eleanor followed closely, and Aurora fidgeted with her fingers, murmuring to herself.
The sight of the kitchen left both John and Eleanor speechless. Spoons and knives lay strewn about the floor, as if a tornado had ripped through the room. John's eyes widened in disbelief as he surveyed the mess. "What happened here?" he asked, his voice full of concern and confusion.
