12#12

12

The road ahead promised uncertainty—a future devoid of Denver's presence.

As Leslie exited the edifice, she noticed a pale vehicle with flashing emergency lights at the roadside.

A quick look at the registration number confirmed it was her pre-arranged transport. She swiftly entered the car.

"Please, we must depart immediately!" she implored.

The chauffeur, a man with a deep, unhurried tone, was leaning out, enjoying a cigarette. He extinguished it upon her entry.

"What's our destination?" he inquired.

"It doesn't matter. Just drive!"

The man observed her through the mirror, arched a brow, and replied, "Very well. Hang on." He then skillfully joined the stream of vehicles.

Meanwhile, at the wedding venue, the processional music continued, yet the bride remained absent from behind the gilded entrance.

The attendees, once eager with anticipation, now conversed in hushed, perplexed tones.