The morning sun rose gently over New Haven, casting a warm glow over the town that belied the shadows still lurking in George's mind. Though they'd managed to stave off Lady Elara's attack and tend to their wounded, a palpable tension lingered, a shared understanding that the worst was still to come.
George's thoughts were interrupted as he spotted Grace on the outskirts of the town square. She stood alone, shoulders hunched as she clutched her schoolbooks to her chest. Her gaze was distant, and George immediately recognized the look, a mixture of worry and frustration he had seen in her before.
Realizing she might be dealing with more than just the aftermath of the battle, he approached her quietly, hoping to lend her the same support she had always given him in her own quiet way.
"Grace," he called softly, moving to her side. She looked up, her face lighting up with a brief smile, but it quickly faded, her expression guarded.
