Amelia scowled but said nothing, following him reluctantly as he approached the mansion. The front door creaked loudly as Carl pushed it open, the sound echoing through the empty halls. Dust and cobwebs clung to every surface, and the air was thick with the smell of decay.
Inside, the mansion was dark and quiet, the only sounds coming from their footsteps on the creaking floorboards. Amelia stayed close to Carl, her unease growing with every step. "This place gives me the creeps," she muttered under her breath.
Carl ignored her, his focus elsewhere. He moved with purpose, as if he knew exactly where he was going. Amelia noticed his demeanor had shifted, he seemed less frantic, more determined.
"What are we doing here?" she asked, her voice cutting through the silence.
Carl stopped abruptly and turned to face her, his expression unreadable. "I need to pick up something," he said.
