Ethan was clearly in a bad mood today, wrapped in a heavy, unshakable darkness. He answered with only a vague hum.

Grace was sharp enough to pick up on the shift and didn't dare ask more.

But then, after ten minutes of silence, he spoke up. "Why'd you stop asking me about it?"

The question loomed over her like a guillotine blade, poised to drop without warning.

Grace's throat tightened. "Was it someone who mattered to you?"

Ethan let out another hum.

Resting his chin in his hand, he stared out the window before murmuring, "Yeah. It wrecked me when she left."

Grace felt unsettled by Ethan right now, but even she couldn't deny that he loved with everything he had. People liked to say that devotion only came from old money, but that wasn't entirely true.

her world of luxury and indulgence, most trust-fund kids were just in it for the thrill. Guys like Ethan, who loved this deeply, were rare. His beloved had been gone for seven years, yet he

been something special to be loved and still longed

mouth shut after that. She didn't say another word until

car because the heavy iron doors swung open without hesitation. Beyond the gates were nothing but endless rows of steps. Grace had no idea which path led to

the spot when someone appeared

wheelchair, looking completely drained. His voice was flat as he gave the order. "Stay

didn't have the nerve to

it," she answered

something heavy and unreadable. She dropped her gaze instantly, her shoulders tensing

word, Ethan slowly turned his wheelchair

a breath until he was out of sight,

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