Dominic Vance stood frozen beside the bed, his entire body exuding a bone-chilling aura of frost. The warm orange glow of the nightstand lamp, which usually brought a sense of coziness, now only served to make the atmosphere in the room feel increasingly gloomy and suffocating.
The entire room was terrifyingly silent, leaving only the ticking of the clock and the rapid, broken breaths of Lucien. He sat huddled in the corner of the bed, his red eyes brimming with tears, while his bony hands still trembled violently, gripping the edge of the blanket as if it were his sole lifeline.
