Shattered Vows: Silent Revenge.
Adrien picked up a leather-bound book, flipping through its yellowed pages.
“You’d like this,” he said, handing it to me.
I glanced at the title, it was a Spanish poetry collection. “I don’t even speak Spanish that well.”
“Doesn’t matter. You like words. And these are beautiful, even if you don’t catch every one of them.
He was right. I traced the cover with my thumb before buying it, more because he had chosen it for me than anything else.
By late afternoon, we climbed up to Park Güell. The colors of the mosaics glowed under the sun, blues and greens blending into the sky. We found a quiet bench overlooking the city, and Adrien leaned back, one arm stretched behind me.
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