Ashcroft’s fingers closed around it slowly, knuckles tightening as the city lights carved shadows across his face.
“Harper Lin… you think you can run from me?” His jaw tightened, gaze hardening as the city lights flickered past.
“You only make distance feel like a dare.”
Back in the Blackwoods’ garden, the air was thick with the scent of chamomile and damp earth. Laughter still lingered, faint and fading — like the soft glow of lanterns swaying lazily from the trees. The tea had long gone cold, untouched on the wrought-iron table, yet no one seemed ready to leave.
The night hummed with a quiet kind of peace — fragile, fleeting, as though even the wind hesitated to disturb it.
Maya smiled as Dominic launched into another story — this one about Julian sneaking Malia out to midnight fest
