For the first time since she had stepped into the yard, something in her expression shifted in a way that wasn’t guarded, wasn’t sharpened into something meant to deflect or cut.
It was small.
Subtle.
But it was real.
The corner of her mouth lifted.
Not the smirk she had worn before. Not the sharp, devilish grin she had aimed at Peyton.
This—this was different.
Softer.
Quieter.
Familiar in a way that didn’t belong to anyone else standing there.
Her eyes held his, something unspoken passing between them—something that had nothing to do with the crowd, or the tension, or the weight of everything that had just been laid bare.
Something that belonged to before.
“You always did have a way with words,” she replied, her tone lighter now, the edge gone from it, replaced with something
