Blanche's POV
I glanced up at the half-open window. Cool autumn air drifted through, catching the sheer curtain's edge.
The breeze carried a hint of Vincent's cologne still hanging in the room.
'Did Vincent slip into my room while I was out?'
I stood and moved to the window, scanning left and right. No sign of him anywhere.
I reached out and pulled the window shut.
My phone buzzed the second I closed it.
I walked back to the bed and grabbed my phone. Zain's name lit up the screen.
After a beat of hesitation, I answered. "Hello," I said, my voice flat and drained.
Silence stretched on the other end before Zain spoke, his tone soft and worried. "Did you get those wounds treated?"
His belated concern sent a sharp pang through my chest, but I kept my expression neutral. "Yeah, I did."
Zain exhaled, relief evident in his voice. "Good."
After a pause, I asked, "What about Carry? Did she get her injuries checked?"
"Yeah, she's already back from the hospital," Zain replied.
