— What do we do? — Elena's whispered query, hung in the air like a delicate secret. Richard's mind raced against the encroaching danger, his senses heightened in the absence of sight. Richard sensed the cadence of footsteps, distinct and echoing, heralded the butler's approach. A peculiar awareness, born of an acute sensitivity, distinguished the slow rhythm of his walk from the ambient sounds that had previously colored Richard's perception.
— Get him close to me when I cough. I just need a minute, at most, to make the necessary preparations. — Richard's instructions, delivered in a measured whisper, wove a thread of strategy in the tapestry of uncertainty. The room, with its stone-cold walls standing as silent sentinels, absorbed the weight of their clandestine planning.
