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Amidst the chaotic heart of the city, Emma and I find ourselves perched on the edge of anxiety, eagerly expecting our lawyer. My restless hands betray my inner turmoil, dancing in an erratic rhythm, a vivid echo of that fateful morning that still lingers in my thoughts. The unsaid words hang heavy in the air, their absence palpable as I clench my teeth, my gaze fixated intently on Emma, our silent connection speaking volumes.
Emma's eyes dart away from mine, evading any connection, and her tense shoulders speak volumes, the weight of unspoken words etched in every muscle. I inhale and exhale, a futile attempt to steady my racing heart, an unspoken desire to broach the uncharted territory of our shared past. Yet, a heavy silence hangs between us, a palpable barrier, conveying her reluctance to delve into that unresolved conversation.
Amidst the swiftly surging crowd, a deep sigh slips past my lips. My chest tightens, like a coiled spring ready to snap, and my hands clench into fists, gnawing at my inner turmoil as my mind drifts back to Aurelie. Memories of her ominous threats and relentless pursuit to strip away everything from my life loom like shadowy specters in my thoughts.
"Are you okay?" Emma inquires, her concern etched across her face. "You seem pale."
I pause briefly, mulling over my response before opening up. "I was just reflecting on Aurelie," I confess, my voice carrying the weight of memories.
Emma's brows knit in surprise, and her gaze fixates ahead as she nods. A heavy tension hangs in the air, urging me to broach the subject of our morning encounter, yet an invisible barrier stifles my words, like sentences caught in the confines of my throat.
Minutes later, a man dressed in a sharp suit navigates his way through the bustling crowd, his eyes scanning the surroundings in search of us. My instincts send a subtle signal that he's the lawyer we've been awaiting. I take purposeful strides towards him, extending my hand in greeting.
I meet his gaze and extend a welcoming smile. "I'm Alexander Sterling," I introduce myself. "We appreciate your prompt arrival."
He acknowledges with a curt nod. "Time is of the essence."
"I'd like you to meet Emma," I say, gesturing toward her. "She's an integral part of this discussion."
"Of course," the lawyer replies, taking a seat. "Let's get to the matter at hand. What's the situation?"
I trust my instincts, retrieving the documents that Miller's father had entrusted to me. With a gentle slide, I present them to the lawyer. He deftly pulls out his reading glasses, perching them on his nose as he meticulously pores over the papers. At that moment, a reassuring touch from Emma grazes my knee, grounding me in the situation's weight.
An agonizing period appears to unfold before the lawyer eventually returns the documents, his posture sinking into the chair with a heavy sigh. The room brims with the tangible tension that radiates from his clenched muscles. Leaning in, I lock eyes with him, our unspoken understanding resonating in the charged atmosphere.
