The house was so quiet one might have thought it empty. Alexander stood in the living room for a moment before Anastasia came downstairs—she had lost so much weight he barely recognized her.

She wore a black dress and slippers. "Hey, Alex," she greeted him.

"Where's your father?" he asked.

"My father is still resting," she whispered, glancing upstairs.

Alexander was puzzled. "Resting?"

He knew she used that excuse to deflect visitors when her father was unwell. He wondered why Cameron was still resting now that the toxins had been removed.

"Why are you visiting so suddenly?" Anastasia asked, gesturing toward a seat. She seemed strangely reserved, and didn't even ask a servant to offer him a drink.

Alexander, usually observant, sensed something was wrong but couldn't place it. "Did something happen?" he asked.

"No," Anastasia replied, forcing a smile. "Besides Father feeling weak and needing rest, everything is fine. I must thank you and Lily, though. If it weren't for you both, Father's toxins wouldn't have been removed so quickly."

Her smile didn't reach her eyes. Alexander frowned and carefully observed the house.

"So, why are you here? Father's weak and might not wake up soon. Tell me what it's about, and I'll relay the message later," she continued. Instead of answering, Alexander asked, "Many of your servants are absent. And your father seems to have dismissed his personal guards, hasn't he?"

Anastasia glanced around, then chuckled. "Yes, we overworked them before. After Father regained consciousness, he sent them home to rest. As for the guards… he doesn't need so many now."

"I see," Alexander murmured, gazing intently at Anastasia.

She shifted uncomfortably, tugging at her dress. "So, what brings you here?" she repeated.

"I'm here for something important," Alexander said. "I must speak to Cameron in person, and it can't wait. I'll go see him now. Wake him up, please."

"No!"

Anastasia's exclamation startled Alexander. She covered her mouth, a blush rising on her cheeks. "M-My father has been weak and hates being disturbed. He'll lose his temper. I woke him two days ago to ask if he wanted food, and he was furious. He told me never to wake him again, no matter what. So I think…" she paused, "...it's best not to."

Alexander raised an eyebrow. "I understand. But I'm not afraid of his temper; I have something urgent to tell him. I'll bear the consequences."

He went upstairs.

A sense of foreboding had settled over him even before entering the house, a feeling intensified by Cameron's lack of response. Something was terribly wrong.