Surprisingly, it worked.
Aster's breathing began to steady, each inhale and exhale coming more evenly as if he were slowly finding his way back to solid ground. He closed his eyes, brow furrowing with concentration, and focused on the soft pitter-patter of the rain.
It's just rain. Only rain. He repeated it to himself like a mantra, letting the rhythmic sound seep into his bones, untangling the knots of fear coiled tightly within him.
When he opened his eyes again, they shifted to the empty corner the strange man had pointed to earlier.
Vyan watched closely, seeing a cascade of emotions flicker through his brother's gaze—fear, confusion, and something like reluctant acceptance. It was as if Aster was having a silent conversation with the imaginary Vee in that corner, grappling with his fears and finding his courage, just like he used to do when they were younger.
