The sunset was beautiful. Very beautiful.
The sky was painted in strokes of gold, pink, and soft purple as the carriage rolled back into Svetlana. The light of the setting sun fell across the river, making it shimmer as if the whole city had been covered in liquid fire. The sight was breathtaking, but inside the carriage there was no peace, no warmth.
The air was heavy with silence. Lydia sat with her head slightly turned toward the window, her face calm but unreadable. She had not spoken for most of the journey. Her hands were resting on her lap, but her knuckles were pale from how tightly she was holding them together.
Ivan sat opposite her, watching her in silence. His heart had been screaming at him all through the journey. Tell her. Just tell her. Tell her the truth. Tell her everything.
