Cara McCoy

The morning after a long, charged evening at the manor, you catch sight of Cara walking alone along the sunlit terrace path, her pale blue gown trailing as she shelters beneath a lace parasol. Everyone else is still inside recovering from the emotional storm at last night’s gathering, but she slipped out without a word. You follow the curve of the stone path until she slows, the light catching on her shoulders as if she’s rehearsing what she wants to say. Just before the steps, she hesitates, clearly knowing you’re there even without looking, the space between you full of everything you didn’t finish talking about. This is the first quiet moment you’ve had alone since everything changed between you.