Kate didn't brush off Lucien's words as easily as her husband did. There was a pause after he spoke, a small hesitation that lingered in her eyes. John, however, reacted almost immediately, his tone light and dismissive as if the whole matter wasn't worth thinking about.
"I think you misunderstood," he said with a polite smile. "Esther's just from Russia. It's normal for her to be pale and quiet. There's nothing wrong with her."
Lucien didn't argue. He simply looked at the girl standing beside him, his gaze calm but sharp, as if trying to peel back something hidden beneath the surface. That brief glance was enough. He had already seen what he needed to see.
Kate, unlike her husband, didn't seem entirely convinced. "You said you've studied medicine?" she asked, curiosity mixed with uncertainty.
"A little," Lucien replied. "Picked up some knowledge over time."
"What did you mean earlier… about checking her condition?"
Lucien paused for a moment before answering. "There are ways to judge a person's development. Bone structure, proportions… things that aren't obvious at first glance."
His explanation was simple, almost vague, but the effect it caused was anything but small.
For just a fraction of a second, the girl's expression changed.
It was subtle—so subtle that no one else in the room noticed it. But Lucien did. There was a flicker of panic, followed by something colder, something far more dangerous. Then, just as quickly, it disappeared, replaced by that same innocent, harmless expression she had been wearing from the start.
John chuckled lightly, clearly unimpressed. "That sounds interesting, but I think we're fine."
Kate didn't reply right away. She looked at Esther, then at Lucien, as if weighing something in her mind. In the end, she said nothing. The moment passed quietly, but the unease remained.
After Lucien left, the atmosphere inside the house slowly returned to normal—or at least, it appeared to.
John loosened his collar and glanced at his wife. "You're not actually taking that seriously, are you?" he asked.
Kate hesitated. "I just feel like… checking once wouldn't hurt."
John shook his head, clearly disagreeing. "He's just a young man trying to show off. You remember how people are at that age. They always want to prove something."
His tone was casual, confident, and completely dismissive. To him, Lucien's words were nothing more than empty talk.
Kate frowned slightly. His reasoning made sense, but that strange feeling in her chest didn't fade. It lingered quietly, like a shadow she couldn't quite see.
Before she could think further, John called out, "Daniel! Come down, it's time for dinner."
The boy appeared a moment later, still carrying a trace of irritation on his face. John looked at him and asked casually, "What do you think of Esther? Does she look sick to you?"
Daniel barely spared her a glance. "That guy doesn't know anything," he said bluntly. "He's just pretending. She's completely fine."
Just like that, Lucien's warning was dismissed entirely.
John smiled, satisfied with the answer, then crouched down in front of the girl. "What about you, Esther?" he asked gently.
She lowered her gaze slightly, her voice soft and careful. "The orphanage takes us for checkups regularly," she said. "I've always been healthy."
Then she added, almost timidly, "If you're worried… we can still go."
That single sentence was enough.
John's expression softened instantly, his protective instincts kicking in without hesitation. "There's no need," he said firmly. "We trust you."
Kate opened her mouth, wanting to say something, but in the end, she stayed silent. Faced with both her husband and son dismissing the idea, she let it go.
Dinner continued peacefully after that. Conversation flowed, laughter returned, and everything seemed normal again.
But no one noticed the way Esther's eyes changed when they weren't looking.
Cold. Calculating. Watching.
Outside, the sky was painted in shades of orange and fading gold as Lucien sat quietly in the back of a taxi. His gaze rested on the passing streets, but his thoughts were elsewhere.
That girl.
There was no doubt anymore.
At first, he had suspected something supernatural, but the truth was different—and far more unsettling.
She wasn't a spirit. Not a demon. Not anything unnatural in that sense.
She was human.
And that was exactly what made her dangerous.
Lucien had seen enough to understand. The body of a child, but the mind of something far older. A predator hiding behind innocence, moving from place to place, blending in until it was too late.
He exhaled slowly, leaning back against the seat.
"So that's how it is…"
A rare condition. A broken psyche. A pattern of violence carefully hidden beneath a perfect disguise.
His thoughts shifted to the family he had just left behind.
The order was already clear in his mind.
The man would be first.
The boy… soon after.
The woman might survive—if she realized the truth in time.
But that depended on whether she chose to listen.
Lucien closed his eyes briefly, letting his mind settle. He had already done what he could. A warning, a hint—more than enough for people who were willing to see.
What happened next wasn't his responsibility.
At least, that's what it should have been.
Then, suddenly, something shifted.
It was faint, almost imperceptible, but he felt it clearly—a subtle sense of hostility, like a thread tightening somewhere far away.
Lucien's eyes opened slowly.
For a moment, he said nothing. Then a faint smile appeared on his lips.
"…So you noticed."
Interesting.
Very interesting.
That thing had already marked him.
Seen him as a threat.
A problem that needed to be removed.
Lucien leaned back slightly, the smile on his face deepening just a little.
"You picked the wrong target."
His gaze drifted toward the darkening sky, calm and steady.
"If you come for me…"
His voice was quiet, but certain.
"…you won't get a second chance."
This wasn't over.
Not even close.