"I know, Arthur," she said softly, her voice carrying a hint of weariness. "I know you've cared for me. I've never doubted that." Her words hung in the air between them, but there was something in her eyes—something that told a deeper story than the surface level of gratitude he expected.
"But right now," Angel continued, her tone firm, "I need to fight this battle on my own. I appreciate the court complaint against Tryson, really, I do. But I think it's time I handle this myself. Let me speak to him. Let me confront him face-to-face."
Her words were firm and unwavering, her gaze unblinking as she conveyed the seriousness of her resolve.
Arthur stood still for a moment, his eyes reflecting the weight of her words as they seemed to sink in. His lips tightened, and a low click of his tongue broke the silence before he sighed heavily, pulling his hands from his pockets.