Uncle Basil's Demise: Victoria London - To Die For

Tamsin's pulse raced; her instincts whispered that something was wrong. Uncle Basil's stillness felt off. She leaned closer, studying his face.

“Uncle Basil?” she murmured, barely more than a breath. Her fingers brushed his hand, which was unsettlingly cool to the touch.

A quiet shudder passed through her. The empty glass beside him held dim traces of an amber liquid, its faint scent unmistakable. Her thoughts swirled, trying to piece together what she was seeing. She looked back at him, her gaze tracing his wide-open hazel eyes, fixed on a distant point in the room.

Suddenly, the faint echo of a creak sounded from the darkened hallway. Her pulse thundered in her ears.  

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