Aisha sank onto the edge of her bed, still trembling from the encounter with Daniel.
The remnants of torn petals lay scattered across the floor, silent reminders of how close she had been to letting herself believe him again.
Her chest heaved with a mixture of shame, relief, and confusion.
Callen moved closer, his presence filling the small room, every step deliberate. His eyes, silver and piercing, locked onto hers, sharp but tempered with care.
He didn’t rush. He didn’t shout. But his intensity pressed down on her like the weight of the world, demanding that she pay attention.
“You can’t keep trusting the wrong people,” he said, his voice low, controlled, but trembling with the edge of raw emotion. “You let him manipulate you. You let him hurt you again.”
Aisha’s lips quivered.
