“Arwen…” Ryan’s voice was soft, as if cutting through the fog of grief still wrapped around the girl’s heart. “I know this all feels too sudden. But believe me, I didn’t come with bad intentions. I want to make sure you’re safe.”
Arwen looked at him, her eyes still swollen from crying. Her small fingers clutched the wool scarf her grandmother had left her, while the oval locket around her neck glimmered faintly under the chandelier’s light in the old house.
“How can I trust you so easily? I don’t even know you,” her voice trembled, though she tried to sound strong.
Ryan lowered his gaze for a moment, weighing his words. When he looked back at Arwen, his eyes were filled with sincerity.
“I could say anything to convince you. But I’ll always hold onto one thing—I won’t let you face this
