Near midnight.
The room was quiet, save for the faint hum of the city's nightlife beyond the hotel's walls.
The muffled rhythm of car horns, the distant thrum of bass-heavy music, and the occasional laughter from the streets below seeped through the curtains. Yet inside, the atmosphere was still—tense, even.
Xu Tao—the only other person in the room besides Uriel—sat by Henrietta's bedside, arms folded, gaze steady. His posture was relaxed, but his senses were sharp, sweeping across every corner of the room as naturally as breathing.
Henrietta lay beneath the sheets, face pale against the soft glow of the bedside lamp. Her breathing was calm, but not peaceful. Something in her seemed… unsettled.
Even in sleep, faint ripples of energy stirred from her body, pricking at Xu Tao's divine sense like invisible needles.
