Maximilian stopped so abruptly his boots ground into the gravel.
Afternoon light lay harsh and clear over the yard. The sky was still bright enough that there was nowhere for fear to hide. The air smelled like dust and warm pavement. Even the smallest sounds, his breathing, Luka’s strained inhale, or the faint rustle of leaves, felt too loud in the open day.
Maximilian’s hands lifted, not as a threat, but open and empty. His chest rose and fell too fast, breath ragged, eyes locked on the blade like it was the very danger that would shake his whole world.
“Evelyn,” he said, voice cracking around her name. “Put it down.”
But she didn’t.
She looked nothing like the woman he remembered. Her face was wet with tears, but her eyes were strange. Her eyes looked too dull, too far away, like sh
