I knocked softly against the guest room door before pushing it open slowly.
The room was quiet.
Camille sat near the large window beside the bed, her body turned slightly toward the fading evening light outside. She had changed already. Fresh clothes. Her dark hair looked slightly damp near the ends like she had washed her face recently.
But somehow she still looked exhausted.
She turned quickly when she heard the door open.
For a second, something nervous crossed her face before she immediately tried to compose herself again.
I gave her a small smile as I walked further inside.
“How’re you feeling?”
Camille lowered her eyes almost immediately.
“I’m doing better,” she said quietly. “Thanks to you.”
Her voice still sounded careful.
Like she was afraid of saying the wrong thing.
