In the dim light of their bedroom, Carmilla sat on the edge of the bed, her fingers absently fidgeting with the hem of her nightgown.
She let out a deep sigh, the weight of the evening settling over her like a heavy blanket. "I didn't know he really knew medicine," she murmured, almost to herself.
"Remember when Father got very sick? Noah asked if we wanted him to check on the old man, but I thought he was just being polite. I told him it was okay. I didn't think anything of it."
Adam, who had been near the window, turned around and looked at her. His frown deepened as she finished her sentance.
"Carmilla, this man is not normal. He doesn't seem like the type to say things just for appearances. He doesn't do anything without reason." Adam said with a low but tense voice.
His hands clenched into fists at his sides. "I don't want this to happen again, especially not with him."
