"Yes, Robert," said Linda. "You were saying?"
Robert nodded. "The shipment is coming in tomorrow afternoon, ma'am."
"Splendid. Seems like we have a big day tomorrow."
"Ma'am?" He looked surprised. "It's just a shipment… like any other."
She smiled. "Oh, I think we'll be hosting some arcane friends in the morning as well."
"Oh, that." He smiled. "Of course."
"Well, you can take off now. It's getting late… in fact, it's already late."
The assistant thanked the lady and quickly left.
A servant entered. "It's done, ma'am."
Linda nodded. "Did you leave the tray as I asked?"
"No, ma'am. Miss Camille asked me to leave it outside."
"Outside? Where? And where is she?"
"I left the tray on the entryway table, next to the door, ma'am. And Miss Camille was sitting in the hallway… by the window."
'Oh, that poor soul…' Linda sighed. "Well, alright. That'll be all."
She looked at her watch – it was half past midnight on the 11th of August. After finishing her tea, she set aside the cup and finally left.
The forty-five-year-old walked across the polished marble floor – her structured leather house slippers echoed faintly under the high ceilings. With curtains drawn but not fully closed, the house had already settled into routine rather than sleep. The servants had disappeared silently and all of the furniture had been neatly arranged and covered with dust covers. Only a few of the recessed ceiling lights and the soft wall sconces, spaced far apart, were still lit, gently illuminating the space.
Eventually arriving at the foot of the curved staircase, Linda stopped. With closed eyes, she shook her head before moving on. By the time she arrived upstairs, she had let down her blonde hair. It fell to the top of her slim black cigarette pants complementing her brown silk blouse.
She walked through the long central corridor and arrived at the door of the last room and saw the tray still there on the table – a glass of milk, cookies, some leftover pasta, and a glass of water. She looked over. Camille was sitting alone on the windowsill, arms wrapped around her folded legs, head resting on her knees, staring out the window.
It had just started to rain.
Moscow's skyline lay muted under the drizzle, and city lights blurred into soft halos against the wet glass.
"Cami," she softly said. "Why didn't you eat, sweetie?"
The Sokidu looked over. "I'm not hungry, mom…"
Linda took a step forward. "Hon, you haven't eaten much since you got here."
She noticed her daughter's teary eyes and paused.
Camille looked away once more.
Linda took a few moments to gather herself, adjusting her blouse before walking over. She settled beside the Sokidu, who was perched on the edge of the windowsill, and sat silently, staring at the bandage on Camille's wrist — it was still red. Finally, she placed her hand gently over it.
"I don't know how to ask about the things that almost killed you," Linda said, whispering.
Camille lifted her head from her knees and leaned back, drawing her arms as well. "I'm alright, mom. It's already healed."
Linda nodded and looked away. Pointing towards the room door, she asked, "How's our guest doing?"
The Sokidu sighed. "Pretty good, I'd say."
"Has he woken up?"
"Mm-mm. Nope."
Linda looked at her. "But you said he's good now."
"Compared to what he went through, mom… yes, he's fine. But not really. It's a miracle he's even alive."
Linda observed Camille for a few moments as she once again began staring out the window.
"What happened to you guys out there?" the mother eventually asked.
"It was a war, mom," the daughter replied as she crossed her legs and sat straight. "What happens, happened."
After a pause, she shook her head dismissively and added, "Besides, I didn't even get to fight…"
Her voice shook as she said it.
Linda leaned closer. "Is that why you haven't said his name even once?"
The Sokidu looked at her mother but remained at a loss for words.
"My informants gave me the news, honey." Linda took a few moments before she slowly added, "Talk to me, Cami, please."
As her eyes welled up, Camille tried to smile, but it faltered at the corners. Her chin trembled. She looked away.
"So…" The Sokidu pointed at the tray as she cleared her throat and gathered herself. "Did you put olives in my pasta?"
Linda smiled and nodded. "Like always, sweetie…"
Camille slowly stood up. "Well, I think I should check up on our guest as well."
She picked up the tray, opened the door, and hurried into the room.
Linda remained seated after the door closed, listening to the rain. For a brief moment, she allowed herself to think of Hugo – not the man the world had known, but the boy who had once filled this house with noise. The world had claimed him. But it had not broken her daughter. Then she rose, composed once more.
Camille placed the tray down on a corner table. A few tears escaped before she could stop them. She leaned her back against the closed door and sobbed softly.
Until suddenly, she felt movement. She looked at Vincent lying on the bed in front of her.
'Did he move?' she thought.
Wiping her cheeks and rubbing her eyes, she stepped closer and observed – a weak tremor moved through his arms and a pained twitch pulled at his jaw while his eyelids fluttered.
Camille placed a hand on his forehead. 'He's burning up,' she thought as she leaned against the edge of the bed. 'But his Ki is behaving differently than before… time for a full checkup again.'
The Sokidu applied a camouflaging spell before placing a hand on the bounty hunter's chest – she charged a little Ki and sensed through his Ki networks.
'That's interesting,' she thought, closely observing the flow of Ki within his body. 'There is definite recovery in some parts, but that should be impossible! How is the Dark Ki not harming him? His Ki came in direct contact with it. Something isn't right…'
However, due to Vincent's waning Ki and damaged Ki Clusters, Camille could not even attempt to heal him. She stood up and sighed. 'At least he's showing some signs of life…'
The tired Sokidu picked up the glass of water and sat on the sofa chair beside the bed.
"It's a miracle," she whispered, then reached over to the bedside and turned off the lamp.
Leaning back, legs tucked beneath her, she stared at the rain sliding down the glass and the trees swaying in the wind. Her eyelids grew heavier as she followed the movement of the leaves and the branches. Tired and spent, she soon fell asleep.