The courtyard had emptied.
Morning's motion dissolved into afternoon stillness, and with it the illusion that the world would continue unchanged simply because she wished it to.
Elara stood beneath the stone arch where shadow met pale light, aware of everything and certain of nothing.
Wind brushed across the ivy climbing the walls.
A distant door shut.
Footsteps faded somewhere deep within the estate.
Nothing threatened.
Nothing moved toward her.
And yet the air felt charged — as though reality itself waited for her to understand what she had stepped into.
Behind her, Alessandro remained still.
Not distant.
Never distant now.
But measured.
As if each inch between them had been negotiated with instinct.
She wrapped her arms around herself.
Not from cold.
From awareness.
Uff…
"This place feels different," she murmured.
"It has not changed."
"I have."
"Yes."
The word settled between them like an iron truth.
She stared into the courtyard.
