Agatha laid Jacob on a makeshift bed in the library, his breathing shallow and labored. The bite on his shoulder was already turning a sickly purple, the venom spreading like a venomous tide through his body.
Eleanor approached, her face etched with worry. "Is he going to be okay?" she asked, frustration lacing her voice.
Agatha sighed, her eyes filled with a weary sadness. "I hope so," she responded, gently wiping a sweat off Jacob's face. "The wolfsbane should push the venom out of his system, but it's left to him to recover. There is nothing much anyone can do for him at this point."
Eleanor's gaze lingered on Jacob's pale face, then shifted back to Agatha's. "It's quite unexpected to meet you back here," she said, her voice laced with a hint of the unresolved tension that had always existed between them.
Agatha met her gaze with a neutral expression. "The situation called for it," she replied simply. "We all have a part to play."
