Blanche's POV
The moment I settled back into my seat, Quinton's icy stare cut right through me.
His cold gaze lingered before he spoke. "Go stay with Camila. Unless someone specifically asks for you, remain upstairs."
After his words, I couldn't stop myself from glancing worriedly at Vincent.
Vincent noticed my concern. Despite the obvious tension in his shoulders, he managed a comforting smile. "Hey, don't stress about me. I'll be alright. Go take care of what you need to."
Uneasiness still gnawed at me, but I had no other option than to leave.
Once upstairs, I crept quietly into Camila's bedroom.
The little one was sound asleep, so I decided to let her be.
But with Vincent alone downstairs, anxiety kept creeping up on me.
Camila must have sensed someone's presence because she stirred awake at just the right moment.
She rubbed her drowsy eyes, blinked at the silhouette in her room, and whispered hesitantly, "Aunt Blanche?"
