t shake her fr

tanding in front of that haunting painting-the image

tracts. Faces half-hidden in shadows. But it was her reflection he kept noticing-mirr

was

didn't chase mysteries. He captur

Amara unsettled hi

e shop near the gallery-a hidden gem tucked between bookstores and

wrapping around him. Sunlight filtered through the large w

ere sh

window, notebook in hand, br

her profile, the tension in her posture, the hi

s resolve, h

" he teased gently, sliding

s her face before she masked it with coo

g," he countered, setting his camera

notebook. But instead of refusing, she o

tance but appreciating her hones

rrowed slig

e me," he ad

er pen against the page. "I'm n

," Lucian replied, voice s

passed, heavy wi

a allowed herself a small smile-t

ken words," she mused softl

his seat. "Then let's start w

ra wondered if connection-real, fragi