Liana's POV
It was his idea to go out.
I hadn't wanted to. I was still carrying the previous day around with me like something I'd packed by accident and couldn't find a place to put down. The fight. My father's face at the door.
But he'd knocked on the bathroom door while I was getting ready and said come out with me and something in the way he said it made me put my earrings in and grab my coat.
So we went out.
Leeds city centre on Boxing Day evening was quieter than London but alive in its own way. Shops still lit up. A few restaurants open. People moving in small warm groups, scarves up, breath visible in the cold air. The Christmas lights were still strung across the streets — gold and white, blinking slow.
We walked.
Not toward anything. Just walked. His hand found mine after
