Her Understanding

Inside, Lydia rose from her seat the moment Arthur stepped into the room. Her movements were quick, almost frantic, as though she'd been waiting for this very moment. "Artie," she called softly, walking toward him. Her green eyes, usually vibrant with life, held a dullness that Arthur wasn't used to—something manic that unsettled him. But mingled with that chaos, there was something else: hope.

Hope. It was a fragile thing, easily crushed under the weight of reality, yet so powerful when it burned bright. It could carry people through the darkest storms, giving them strength when all seemed lost. Arthur saw that hope now in Lydia's eyes and, for the first time in days, felt his own resolve steady. He could weather this storm. They could weather it—together.

"Where is she? Where is our daughter? Is she safe?" Lydia asked, her hands gripping his shoulders tightly, her voice trembling with urgency.