Her eyes, her demeanor, her expression...
Everything about her felt eerily familiar to Robert. It was a deep, unshakable sense of recognition, and this familiarity sparked a strange fondness in him. This was the reason he chose to trust her, despite the uncertainties.
Sensing his intense gaze from across the room, Eleanor remained composed on the surface, but unease churned within her. Robert's sharp, penetrating stare made it impossible to escape his scrutiny.
Had he recognized her?
No.
If he had, his demeanor wouldn’t be so calm.
Eleanor pushed the thought aside and focused on her task, carefully inserting the thin silver needle into the elderly lady’s arm. Beads of dark red blood slowly seeped out, trickling into a container Eleanor had prepared. Her movements were smooth, precise, and gentle, the old lady’s expression remained unchanged, showing no sign of discomfort.