Just…there.
A presence.
A statement.
No one misses it.
And no one crosses it.
At some point, I realize something.
They’re not just watching me anymore.
They’re watching us.
The way he stands slightly angled toward me.
The way I don’t step away.
The way our movements sync without effort.
It looks natural.
Too natural for something that started as strategy.
“Relax your shoulders,” he murmurs quietly, barely moving his lips.
“Iamrelaxed,” I reply under my breath.
“You look like you’re about to negotiate a treaty.”
I fight the urge to smile. “Isn’t that what this is?”
“Fair.”
Another couple approaches, and I straighten again, slipping back into the role without hesitation.
But this time, it’s easier.
Because I understand something now.
This isn’t just about surviving the night.
This is about claiming space in a world that wasn’t prepared for me.
And as I lift my chin and meet the next pair of curious eyes, I realize something else.
They’re no longer trying to figure out if I belong here.
They’re trying to figure out what I’m capable of. And that’s exactly what my papa taught me.
Eventually, the tension eases. Not completely—never completely—but enough. Because family changes the air.
Timofey is pulled away by his brothers, their voices low and serious even when they laugh. I catch a glimpse of him over someone’s shoulder, his posture still sharp, still alert…but there’s something lighter in his expression.
Then a hand slips through mine.
“Come on,” Ellie says, already pulling me away.
