Chapter 8 The Things We Don't Say

• Some truths are too heavy to whisper, even in love.
• Lucia sat at the edge of the garden, arms wrapped around her knees, eyes staring into the woods.
• The silver grass swayed gently. The same breeze that kissed her skin the night before felt colder now—charged. Like the hush before a storm. She hadn’t mentioned the vision. Not yet. But the shimmer on her skin hadn’t returned, and the voice… had gone silent again.