Evelina's breath hitched as her eyes locked on the scary words: "You're not safe."
The ink was dark, hastily scrawled, the letters uneven as if written in a rush—or by someone trembling. A chill crept up her spine, not from the cool air against her damp skin but from the message itself.
She scanned the room, her pulse pounding in her ears, but there was no sign of anyone. Just the flickering candlelight casting long, shifting shadows.
She walked carefully toward the door, taking quiet, cautious steps. Her fingers shook a little as she picked up the small dagger from the wood, its sharp edge shining softly.
The note drifted into her hand. She turned it over, looking closely at both the parchment and the dagger, trying to find any sign or detail that might reveal who had left them.
Relia's voice pierced the tense silence. "Well, that's not threatening at all. What's next? Blood dripping from the ceiling?"
Evelina didn't respond.
