As Alaric walked home after his dinner at Evelyn's house, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss. The evening had been pleasant enough—Evelyn's mother was kind, the food was good, and the conversation light. Yet, there was an undercurrent of tension that he couldn't quite place.
The night air was cool, and the streets were quiet as Alaric strolled through the familiar neighborhood. His thoughts drifted back to the odd moments during dinner. Evelyn had been strangely quiet, her usual confidence replaced by an almost palpable unease. And there was the way her mother kept glancing at him, as if trying to decipher a puzzle she couldn't quite solve.
