Celeste’s fingers curled around the soft fabric of her dress as she moved down the familiar corridors of Redstone. The polished wooden floors gleamed beneath her steps, and the golden glow of the early evening sun filtered through tall windows, casting shadows across the hallway walls. Everything looked exactly as it was perfect, clean, ordered. As if her world hadn’t been crumbling silently from within.
She shouldn’t have been nervous. Not today.
She had spent hours mustering the courage to look for him. Grayson had been distant lately absent smiles, cold touches, conversations that slipped into silence before they ever found meaning. But Celeste still believed. Still clung to the fragile hope that if she tried hard enough, held on just a little longer, he’d return to her fully.
So she
