The sterile scent of hospital disinfectant filled my nostrils as I sat beside Mrs. Dubois's bed, my eyes burning from exhaustion. The heart monitor beeped steadily—the only sound in the otherwise silent room. I studied her pale face, searching for any sign of improvement, but found none.
A soft knock on the door pulled me from my thoughts. Uncle Dubois entered, his imposing frame filling the doorway. His eyes weren't on Mrs. Dubois, but fixed intently on me. The scrutiny made my skin crawl.
"I need some coffee," I murmured, standing to leave.
Uncle Dubois didn't move from the doorway. "You have her eyes."
I froze. "Excuse me?"
"Beatrice's eyes. When she was young." His gaze traveled over my features. "The resemblance is... striking."
My heart hammered against my ribs. Before I could respond, my phone vibrated in my pocket. I glanced at the screen—Bianca Pierce.
"I need to take this," I said, slipping past him into the hallway.
