But no matter how many times she repeated it, the feeling gnawed at her like a dull ache, refusing to let go. She had never been one for superstition or conspiracy, yet there was something unsettling about everything.
Anne glanced at Damien from the corner of her eye. He sat behind the wheel, his face calm and composed. His strong jaw, the stubble he never quite got rid of, the way his dark eyes flicked briefly towards her before focusing back on the road
"Anne?" Damien's deep voice broke through her thoughts. "You've been quiet for a while now. Are you okay?" He turned his head slightly, his brows knitting together in concern. "You look worried."