Dante’s pov

The sun was low in the sky, creating extended shadows across the front porch. Dante was seated on the steps, his elbows propped on his knees, a cigarette smoldering between his fingers. He hadn’t inhaled in several minutes. It simply rested there, smoke wafting gently into the sky. The screen door creaked open behind him. Soft footsteps trailed behind, followed by the comforting warmth of a known presence sitting next to him. Lia. Initially, she remained silent, merely ...