Dora soon found herself relaxing, letting go of the stiffness that had embedded itself in her bones the second she had put her arm around Dante's own. The warmth of his body beside hers and the steady pace of their walk through the quiet garden eased something inside her that had felt wound too tightly for too long. It was soothing enough to make her forget, if only for a while, what had happened with her father—and what she was convinced her father was hiding from her.
At first, they walked together in complete silence, which Dora was more than fine with. The sound of gravel crunching under their feet mixed with the faint rustle of leaves above. But she was even more surprised when Dante began to speak to her, asking her small questions that made the atmosphere between them even more harmonious.
