Damon stopped in front of the door of his bedroom. He placed his hand on the brass handle. He turned it very slowly, making sure it did not click. He pushed the door open and stepped quietly inside.
He stood by the doorway, looking silently toward the floor near the large wardrobe.
Camilla was lying on the hard wooden floorboards. She had brought a thick blanket and a pillow for herself earlier. But a simple blanket could not hide the hardness of the solid wood.
Damon watched her carefully.
She was not sleeping peacefully anymore. The exhaustion of her secret, violent day was clearly taking a heavy toll on her body. She tossed and turned. She rolled from her left side to her right side. She let out a small, uncomfortable groan in her sleep. She pulled the thick wool blanket tighter around her shoulders, trying to find a soft spot on the hard floor, but she could not. She looked deeply uncomfortable.
Damon stood there, watching her struggle.
