Clara didn’t move at first, not because she was unsure, but because she understood that any sudden motion could shatter whatever fragile balance was holding Phoenix together.
The little dog pressed harder against her legs, trembling in a way that felt deeper than fear, as if her body remembered something her mind couldn’t escape.
The man remained still on the other side of the gate, his posture rigid, his expression carefully controlled, but his eyes betrayed a flicker of something uneasy.
The girl looked between them, confused, her excitement dimming slightly as she sensed the tension she couldn’t fully understand yet.
“Is she… okay?” the mother asked softly, her voice cautious, almost apologetic, as if afraid of having caused harm without knowing how.
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