The city lay quiet under a gray daylight, the air heavy with the threat of rain as Kael stepped out of the hospital elevator on basement floor four, two trays of food balanced in his hands.
The warm, bland scent of steamed rice and boiled vegetables drifted from the canteen boxes, mingling with the sterile chill of the underground.
He crossed the short drive to the black utility truck, his boots scuffing the asphalt, and spotted them immediately—the unmistakable silhouettes of the twins, Tila and Lila, slumped low in the truck's windows.
Their small heads were barely visible, still and quiet, like shadows curled into themselves. Kael's lips twitched into a faint smile, his head shaking lightly.
Tila had sworn she'd ditch the truck and vanish into the city, all bluster and defiance, but here she was, staying put.
The thought—of obedience not forced but chosen—warmed his chest more than it should've, a quiet spark in the chaos of the day.
