Chapter 237

Dawn found us the way mercy sometimes does—late, fragile, and not quite believing it was welcome.

The room kept the night a little longer than the windows wanted. Coals in the hearth held their red breath. The curtains lifted and fell as if they were practicing speech.

I woke to the weight of Dante’s arms around me and the feeling of a man trying to learn how to be careful with the thing he thoug