Eleanor kept rearranging the food on the fabric without ever taking a bite out of it.
Then again, upon closer look, that food seemed… Off.
Not that Silas was an expert when it came to human nutrition, but those dishes certainly left him different at the sight.
The fact that they had no odor did not help that either.
"Are you expecting someone?" he asked.
"Hmmm…," she hummed, looking up pensively, "I am not sure, but I do believe so,"
"Do you have any idea if I can see Arabella here?"
"No. I do not," she shook her head and carried on shifting the plates around.
Silas's insides sank further down with every word out of her mouth. She told him Arabella wasn't safe and yet no sign of worry dawned on her features.
Was the concept of time that warped in that space that it changed the soul so drastically?
To show such nonchalance towards her own daughter?
"What sort of trouble is she in? Can you tell me that at least?"
