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In the dimly lit kitchen, the soft glow from the overhead lights caught the age-worn tiles, making them gleam. Amelia began looking through the cabinets and fridge, pulling out various containers filled with the dinner Frederick had prepared for them. A steak pie with mash and peas.
"You'd think for such a grand place, they'd have a more modern kitchen," Finn commented, examining an old kettle.
Amelia smirked, "Not all of us need the latest gadgets to make a decent meal, Finn. Some of us actually know how to cook."
"I'll have you know, I make a mean pink shrimp," Finn retorted, trying to defend his culinary prowess.
Amelia laughed, her eyes sparkling. "From a can, I presume?"
Finn grinned, "No way. You've never lived until you've tasted pink shrimp or crab claws cooked by a native Floridian."
“I might take you up on that one day.”
They moved around the kitchen in a comfortable rhythm, their banter light and teasing. There was a certain ease between them, a camaraderie that had developed over the months of working together. And in that moment, amid the old-world charm of Huldra House's kitchen, a hint of something more lingered. Finn could feel it. At once, the connection was exhilarating, and yet at the same time, he couldn't help but think about Demi alone in her hotel room back in London. He had never been so romantically confused.
As they sat down to eat, the room filled with the inviting aroma of roasted vegetables and seasoned meat. The silence was comfortable as they enjoyed their meal, but soon Amelia's gaze shifted, becoming more contemplative.
"You've been different since you came here, Finn," she started. "A bit more subdued. I thought you'd love this place because of the adventure."
He gave a small shrug, "Normally, I would, but I still have a lot going on. Sometimes, I have to block everything out and just focus on the case. You know? Do you not ever get like that?"
Amelia looked distant for a moment. She nodded. Then her expression softened. "You know, if you ever want to talk about anything... I'm here... As a friend."
There was a pause, and Finn could've sworn he detected a hint of disappointment in Amelia’s voice. Maybe he was imagining it, but it stung a little.
As a friend, he thought. That was probably for the best. Things would get complicated otherwise. But he was surprised by just how much he felt that disappointment.
He cleared his throat. "Thank you, Winters."
Deciding to turn the tables slightly, he asked, "What about you? Anything been happening lately? Been seeing anyone?"
She hesitated, her face a mix of surprise and sadness. "No, not since... well, you know."
Finn remembered. Amelia's fiancé had tragically died in an accident just over a year ago. They hadn’t spoken about it since their last case together, when Amelia was deeply troubled by having to view a victim's body in the same morgue where her fiance had once laid.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked," he mumbled. “Stupid. Sorry.”
She shook her head, "It's okay, Finn."
He took a deep breath, "The offer to talk, it’s a two-way street, you know. If you ever need someone... As a friend, I'll be there."
They exchanged a knowing look, seemingly both understanding the layers of emotion wrapped up in their words. It was a shared moment of vulnerability, of offering and receiving support.
The dinner came to an end, and they cleaned up, the atmosphere lighter. The weight of the day and their shared moment in the kitchen seemed to fade as they made their way back to their rooms. They didn't say much until they reached the corridor where both their rooms lay.
As they stopped at Amelia's door, she smiled, "Goodnight, Finn. And... Thank you."
He nodded, "Anytime, Winters. Sleep well."
She closed the door, and Finn found himself staring at it for a moment. A boundary which he felt he could not cross, not matter how much he wanted to. He was in a fragile emotional place, and Amelia was still grieving. He didn't want to hurt either of them, and he sensed that Amelia was doing her best to not hurt him, either.
Finn turned and listened to the storm raging outside. He then opened the old oak door to his room, the echoes of their conversation lingering in their minds. Amidst the shadows of Huldra House, Finn climbed into the large four-poster bed and lay there. But sleep did not come. Instead, a plan started to form in his mind as a possibility.
He wondered if he should pull on some clothes and open the doorway to the cold, dark hallway outside of his room.
CHAPTER TEN
Two hours had passed, and Finn was still awake. The storm raged outside, with wind howling and rain lashing against the windows of Huldra House. Inside, the darkness was thick, punctuated only by the occasional flash of lightning that illuminated the grand old building's rooms in stark relief.
