Parched on the sunlounger as the sunset painted the sky in deep shades of burnt orange and gold, Lira lay still, her eyes fixed on the drifting clouds above.
The breeze was gentle, brushing against her skin and slipping through the strands of her wig. The rhythmic sound of the waves reaching the shore filled the quiet, steady and calming, like a lullaby meant to ease a restless heart.
She had been there for hours.
Waiting.
Not for anything grand. Not for anything complicated.
Just for Roz to speak.
But Roz… was still the same.
He sat nearby, legs stretched out, a book resting in his hands. His attention never left the pages. Every time Lira tried to start a conversation, she would get short replies—just enough to answer, but never enough to continue.
It wasn't that he was rude.
He just… didn't care to talk.
Lira let out a quiet breath, her eyes slowly drifting toward him again.
She studied his face.
There was something different about him today.
