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I settle onto the park bench, wrapping my arms around myself as I expect the private detective. The minutes stretch, each tick of the clock accompanied by the flutter of nerves in my stomach. Uncertainty hangs in the air, a palpable tension that mirrors my apprehension. I've stepped into this role for Alexander, taking on the task he's hesitant to embrace.
There's a determination that fuels me, an unwavering resolve to fulfill the task at hand. Despite the knot of anxiety, I know I can't let him down. Our paths might diverge in terms of strategy, but I'm ready to stand my ground and fight for what I believe in.
My heart beats wildly in my chest, the rhythm almost drowning out the sounds of the surrounding park. As a figure comes into view, walking purposefully toward me, I can't help but notice Miller accompanying him. A frown tugs at my lips as suspicion takes hold.
I squint, my gaze narrowing as I observe the two men side by side. There's an uncanny resemblance between them I can't ignore. My hands ball into fists involuntarily, nails digging into my palms. The realization hits me like a jolt - Miller, who has been doling out advice to others, might just have his own family coming along. The pieces of the puzzle are falling into place, connecting in ways I hadn't expected.
A warm smile spreads across Miller's face as he introduces the man beside him. "Meet my father."
I give his father a quick once-over, taking in his appearance before nodding in acknowledgment. "Got it."
Miller's expression shifts, a mix of uncertainty and regret crossing his features. He lets out a sigh, a hint of resignation in his voice. "I was hoping to explain, but..."
His father's hand lands on Miller's back, a reassuring gesture that speaks volumes. "It's alright, son. You made the right call not to share it beforehand. Let's get things underway, shall we?"
Miller's father takes a seat, his posture relaxed and composed. I can't help but fidget slightly on the bench, adjusting my position as uncertainty ripples through me. My fingers find the edge of my sweater's sleeve, tugging at it in a subtle display of nerves.
I'm caught in a swirl of doubt. Should I let Miller's father take on this task of investigating Aurelie? It's not just about my apprehension, but also about weighing the motives and benefits for Miller himself. A multitude of thoughts tangle in my mind, each thread a different question I'm grappling with.
"Miller gave me a brief rundown," his father begins. "But I'd appreciate more details from you."
My teeth graze my lower lip as I consider his request. "I'm not sure..."
His gaze holds mine, his expression probing. "There's hesitance in your eyes. Why is that?"
Gesturing toward Miller, I voice the question that's been tugging at my thoughts. "I can't help but wonder, what's in it for him?"
Miller's reaction is swift, a look of genuine shock crossing his features. "Emma, seriously, nothing."
Doubt gnaws at me, a persistent nagging in the back of my mind. I carefully watch Miller's expressions, searching for any hints that might offer clarity. My gaze then shifts to his father, as if his presence could somehow shed light on the situation.
