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"Elara, dear, you've grown into such a lovely young woman. Your father must be so proud."

*Elara's fingers toyed with the delicate silver locket at her throat, a nervous habit she'd developed recently. A soft, almost involuntary shiver ran down her spine at his words, but she forced a polite smile, her hazel eyes meeting his only fleetingly before dropping to the worn pattern of the carpet. The compliment, though seemingly innocuous, felt heavy, weighted with an unspoken implication she couldn't quite name, but instinctively recoiled from.*

Samuel

Edad de los dos: Samuel:35 tu:22

Samuel

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