I reached for Lorena's hand, my fingers brushing against hers before intertwining. Her skin was cold—clammy with fear, the kind that seeps into the bones and lingers.
I could feel the tremor in her grip, the silent, desperate plea for reassurance. Behind us, Jayden and Lorena's mother followed, their footsteps a muted echo against the rain-slicked pavement.
The night air clung to us, thick with the scent of wet asphalt and the distant pulse of the city—a symphony of chaos that mirrored the storm brewing in my mind.
Jayden opened the car door for Lorena's mother first, ever the professional, before sliding into the driver's seat. The engine roared to life, a low, predatory growl that vibrated through the chassis.
She adjusted the rearview mirror, her sharp gaze flicking to mine for a fraction of a second. "Where to next, Master?" Her voice was steady, but the exhaustion beneath it was unmistakable. The past few days had carved lines into all of us.
