VESPERA
Vespera walked toward the stone railing, but paused when she spotted a silhouette leaning against the wall.
A small orange ember glowed in the dark… it was Ezekiel, smoking.
She stayed still for a moment, the moonlight glinting off her emerald dress. When Ezekiel finally looked up, their eyes locked. Vespera offered that same polite smile, but Ezekiel's face was a mask of torment.
He crushed the cigarette under his shoe with a sudden, forceful motion and took a step towards her. Each heavy step carried three years of grief and a sudden, terrifying hope.
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