They drove home together that night, and this time the silence in the car was not heavy. It was the quiet of two people who had said the necessary hard things and were sitting in the relief of having said them.
Damian reached for her hand at the first traffic light and did not let go for the rest of the drive.
The next morning they sat down with Sebastian again, properly this time, and the conversation that had circled the previous day found its shape quickly. Aurora had spent the night thinking about what she actually wanted to say, not what would manage public opinion most effectively, not what would protect Damian's business interests most cleanly, but what was simply true.
"I want to write it myself," she said. "Not Sebastian's team. Not a publicist. Me."
Sebastian looked at her ca
