Ella

We don’t linger long at the falls. The sunset fades to a rich, velvety purple by the time I pull the car I borrowed into the massive garage behind the castle. Ryatt didn’t say a word the entire drive back. I glanced at him a few times, noticing the absent look in his eyes as he hung his arm out the window, his fingers splayed in the wind. 

Now we’re seated at a long table made of glass. Platters of food cover the surface. It’s an informal setting in the informal ...