Dahlia's POV
The officer behind the desk shuffled through paperwork with visible exhaustion etched across his weathered face. Without bothering to look up, he muttered with barely concealed irritation, "Just wait a minute."
I opened my mouth to speak but was cut off before the first word escaped.
My attention wasn't focused on him initially, but then I heard someone sitting on a nearby bench speak with casual authority, "Is he ready to be released now?"
My pulse stuttered to a halt.
That rich, commanding voice behind me sent ice through my veins, freezing me in place like a deer caught in headlights.
Years had dragged by, yet that voice remained burned into my memory, haunting me in ways I refused to acknowledge.
I forced myself to breathe deeply, clenching my trembling hands until my knuckles turned white. There was no reason to panic. After all this time, he had probably erased me from his mind completely.
