The Cold Reaper

Chapter 2.3. - A Short Respite

After Splinter finished tending to Henry's wound, he glanced over at Lillia, who had been watching the procedure with wide eyes. "What's with her?" he grumbled, pointing a gnarled finger in her direction.

"She's a part of this now, whether she wants to be or not." Henry's voice was formal, but carrying a weight that hung in the air. Splinter shot a stern look at Lillia, his face etched with a grim acceptance. "I see," was all he grumbled before going silent.

The strange character of Splinter's house seemed to reflected the man himself. It was a peculiar mix of the a average and the extraordinary. Photographs, diplomas, piles of books, and odd instruments filled every nook and cranny.

"Go rest Henry," Splinter suddenly commanded, his voice cutting through Lillia's observations. "Your room's upstairs, second door on the right. The girl can bunk there too. I'll see you both in the morning." With a quick wave of his hand, he dismissed them, not bothering to conceal his annoyance.

Henry, however, seemed not affected by Splinter's mannerism. He nodded his thanks, his movements less strained now, and signaled for Lillia to follow him.

The guest room was cozy and comforting with its wooden walls and soft lighting. A quilted blanket covered the large bed, begging for someone to relax and rest.

"Are we safe here?" Lillia found herself asking as she sat on the edge of the bed. Henry, seated on the armchair by the window, scanning the street, turned towards her. He looked exhausted but remained alert.

"We are," he assured her. "But we'll have to leave first thing in the morning."

Their sleep was fractured that night. The images of the day, were unsettling to Lillia, not mentioning Henry sitting in the arm chair, relentlessly staring out of the windows trying to keep his eyes open. Their time here in Splinter's home was a respite, a break from the chaos outside. The soft patter of rain against the window was a soothing backdrop as they each fell into a restless sleep.