Felicity stopped just inside the yard's boundary.
She didn't clap or smile. Hands behind her back, she rocked slightly, caught between stepping forward and staying put.
"…Is it too much?" she asked quietly.
Her pleated skirt swayed, crisp folds catching the sun, hem brushing her thighs. Every seam reinforced, every pleat precise. She'd stitched it herself, needle biting skin more than once, wanting it right.
Snow Team was embroidered along the waistband in careful, slightly uneven thread. Not factory clean. Personal. Intentional.
The matching top, fitted and clean, their symbol imperfect but undoubtedly hers, over her heart.
Victor froze.
Actually froze.
Victor's gaze swept over her, jaw taut, shoulders rigid. For an instant, his hand twitched with the urge to shield her, eyes flashing with protective intent he struggled to suppress.
Voss inhaled sharply through his nose.
Damien made a low, involuntary sound in his throat.
Silence stretched long enough to sting.
