Silence reigned inside the carriage, so deep that it seemed to have its own weight.
Eliza floated in a strange dream, more vivid than any she had experienced before. It wasn't darkness that enveloped her, but an ethereal clarity, as if she were walking among reflections of water and light.
Around her, landscapes deformed and reassembled: stone columns, a bridge suspended over nothingness, the distant echo of a melody that seemed to intone her name.
—Eliza...
The voice was deep, broken by distance.
Luciano.
She could feel him even without seeing him. That timbre that made her shiver, that invisible thread that bound her to him even though she tried to deny it.
She turned slowly, and there he was: a figure silhouetted against a sky that doesn't belong to the world of the living. His gaze was liquid fire, his hands, shadows extending toward her.
But before reaching him, another presence emerged behind him.
Esteban.
