The car glided to a stop outside Layla's house, and Tristan's voice, gentle like a whisper in the night, floated in the air, "Can you handle it on your own? Do you need a hand?"

The silence between them felt eerie, like a thin fog enveloping them. Layla's heart raced, threatening to burst out of her chest. Without much thought, she quickly replied, "Thanks, but I've got it."

She swung open the car door and stepped out, retreating back to her home as if each stride was a desperate ...