Sid followed quietly, keeping a careful distance as he trailed the two through the house. He knew he was only a spectator in this memory, but something about the mother's behavior was too strange, too obsessive, for him to ignore. Evelise's small footsteps padded softly ahead, and her mother's frantic muttering echoed off the wooden walls until they reached the bathroom.
When the door closed, Sid slipped closer and pressed himself against the wall, listening through the thin wood. The sound of water splashing filled the room— gentle at first, then brisk as the mother scrubbed her daughter with sharp, hurried motions.
"Hold still."
The mother snapped, voice tight with stress.
"A human should be clean. A human should be pure. You can't run around like some wild animal."
Evelise's small sigh drifted through the door.
