Lucien nodded. He pressed his lips together into a thin line, holding all his words inside. But his hands, at his sides, curled into loose fists. Sable sniffed once, a small, wet sound. Then he threw his arms around Dante's neck and held on, a tiny barnacle of love and goodbye.
"Come back soon," Sable whispered into his collar.
Dante's big hand rested on Sable's small back, holding him close for one second, two seconds longer than usual. "I will."
Everyone except Amelia followed him outside. The morning air was cool, the sky pale and wide above them, as if stretching the moment out cruelly. Alina stood near the steps, her hands folded in front of her, watching him walk toward the car.
He stopped. He turned.
For one long, silent moment, the whole world was just this: the look between them, the space of the driveway, the waiting car.
