Sick

Sylas looked over toward Professor Fembroise. The professor had already mostly dressed herself, though a bit haphazardly, not that she was to blame for such a thing. She had already given up, trying to hide her face and shuddering in the corner.

Sylas sighed and shook his head.

"I know you recognize my voice, Professor Fembroise. There's no need for this, I'm not going to kill you."

He hadn't known the woman for long, but he could describe her in three phrases.

Obsessed with her boys.

Sharp both of mind and tongue.

And surprisingly quite quirky.

She probably felt that her best chance at survival was pretending she didn't recognize Sylas, and against most people that was enough, but Sylas knew better than to just leave things like this.

After that man's death, there would definitely be an investigation, and Professor Fembroise would fall right into the list of suspects.