Jaime exhaled softly, the fight finally leaving his body. His shoulders eased, and for the first time that night, the stubborn tension in his face melted into something peaceful. “Alright,” he murmured, his voice faint but content. “Tomorrow then.”
The lanternlight caught in his tired eyes, glinting off the small smile that lingered there—fragile, but real.
For a long moment, no one spoke. The garden felt suspended in quiet warmth, the air thick with the ache of love and memory.
Maya’s throat tightened. She blinked back the sting in her eyes and managed a faint, reassuring smile as she reached for her brother’s arm. “Come on, Jaime,” she said softly. “Let’s go home.”
“I’ll have James prepare the vehicle,” Damien said, already reaching for his phone.
He was halfway through dialing when
