The sun was sinking low, painting the sea in shades of gold and rose. Most of the group had retreated to the villa for snacks or a change of clothes, but Sofia stayed by the shore, toes buried in the sand, eyes fixed on the horizon.
Aron found her there—quiet, thoughtful, the kind of beautiful that didn't ask to be noticed.
"You always used to go quiet like that," he said as he approached, hands tucked in his pockets.
Sofia looked up, startled. Then smiled faintly. "Like what?"
"Like the waves could fix everything if you just stared long enough."
She huffed a soft laugh. "Still can't, unfortunately."
He sat beside her, close but not crowding. "So... are we going to talk about him?"
She blinked. "Who?"
He gave her a dry look. "Come on, Sofia. I knew you before the heels and the designer bags. Before the Ravenstrong name. You don't have to pretend with me."
