The drive back from the beach was quieter than Cynthia expected.
Not uncomfortable—just thoughtful.
Lina had fallen asleep in the back seat. Evan was scrolling through his phone, earbuds half in, half out. Aunt Veronica gazed out the window, humming softly to herself.
Alexander drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting loosely near the console.
Cynthia watched the road ahead, but her thoughts were somewhere else.
"You're quiet," Alexander said gently.
"So are you," she replied.
He smiled faintly. "Fair."
They shared a glance brief, knowing and returned to silence.
But it felt different now. Like something unfinished had followed them home.
Later that evening, after the others had gone to their rooms, Cynthia stepped outside onto the balcony. The air was cooler inland, but she could still smell the ocean faintly, like a memory that refused to fade.
She wrapped her arms around herself, replaying the truth-or-dare questions in her mind. The answers. The looks.