Back to the present.
Under the pale light of the moon, Phoenix found herself following George. She hadn't meant to, her legs had carried her almost instinctively as she watched him leave the others behind, his shoulders tense, his steps purposeful yet hesitant.
The air was cool against her skin, and the muffled thrum of the club music faded with each step.
She knew she shouldn't be here. She knew she had no right to interfere with whatever was unfolding. And yet, she couldn't stop herself.
From the shadows, she saw him standing at the edge of the alley, his hands fidgeting nervously. His gaze flickered toward Annette, who leaned casually against the wall, her hair glowing faintly in the moonlight.
She was calm, poised and gentle, the pillar of strength Phoenix could never bring herself to be.
Phoenix pressed her back against the cold brick of the building, forcing her breaths to stay quiet.
