Christine's eyes darted around outside as she concealed herself behind the curtains. Her breath came out in quiet puffs as she strained to catch any hint of movement or sound from the shadowy depths beyond the window.
Meanwhile, in the dimly lit room, Ingrid slowly rose from her bed, the soft creak of the mattress beneath her barely audible over the crackling of the fire. She glanced around, maintaining a calm face as she searched for some way to assist Christine.
"Now, what am I supposed to do?" Ingrid thought.
Christine's only instruction was to get out of bed. Was it to hide, run away, or fight?
With subtly furrowed brows, Ingrid's gaze wandered around the room, her eyes landing on the vase sitting innocuously on her bedside table. It was a delicate thing, adorned with intricate patterns and filled with cool water and a few stems of various flowers. Ingrid hesitated for a moment, her fingers curling around the smooth ceramic.
