Amelia POV

We leave the gallery laughing.

The sound startles me at first—my own laughter, light and unguarded, spilling out of me like something long forgotten. It echoes briefly against the marble steps as we walk outside, fading into the hum of the city. Maxwell glances at me as if he’s surprised too, like he didn’t expect this version of me to exist.

“I didn’t think you’d like that last section,” he says, shoving his hands into his coat pockets. “You looked like you ...