AMELIA POV
We fled the garden like thieves, hearts hammering harder than the gunshots still echoing behind us. Daniel’s hand clamped around mine as we sprinted across the gravel, fairy lights blurring into streaks of gold. Tires screeched when we reached the car; he shoved me inside, slammed the door, and we peeled out into the night—seconds before red-and-blue lights flooded the street. Whoever fired those shots—Lydia, Marcus, or pure chaos—didn’t matter. We were gone.
*******
The kiss changes everything and nothing.
We’re not back together. Not officially. There’s no declaration. No announcement. No defined moment where everything shifts.
But we’re not apart either.
It’s fragile. Precious. Terrifying.
“What are we doing?” I ask over breakfast. Day fifty-three. “What is this?”
Dan
