The hum of the engine filled the quiet space of the car, steady and low, almost like a heartbeat. Julie's hands, however, didn't share that calm rhythm.
Her slender fingers gripped the folds of her gown, squeezing the fabric until her knuckles turned pale.
Roman noticed immediately. He always did. His sharp eyes softened as they dropped to her trembling hands.
"Are you alright?" he asked, his voice calm but edged with concern.
Julie hesitated, her lashes lowering like shutters against the world.
Her lips parted, carrying a question that betrayed her anxiety.
"Your relatives will be there… other than Azazel, right?" Her voice quivered with nerves that shone clearly in her eyes.
Roman gave a short nod, his gaze never leaving her.
"Yes." The word was simple, but the way he said it—low, reassuring, anchored—was enough to steady some of the storm inside her.
He opened his arms wide, a silent invitation. "Come."
