Sophia’s P.O.V

I stood with hands clasped, watching Tristan throw his head back, laughing like a man unhinged. The sound tore through the afternoon air, jagged and cruel, bouncing off the walls and ringing in my ears.

I didn’t say a word. I didn't even flinch. I just stood there, my lips pressed together, my eyes drinking in the sight of him — how his whole body shook with laughter, how his fingers clenched around the cheap bouquet of carnations he had probably grabbed ...