Chapter 127

Vera nodded, her purple eyes meeting Syn's.

"We needed this," she said, her tone gentle. "A moment to remember who we are." She passed him a slice of bread, her fingers brushing his, a silent reassurance.

They ate in comfortable silence, the clink of spoons and soft laughter—Pako's giggle when Syn spilled stew on his gray shirt—easing the lingering pain.

The dinner grounded them, a reminder of their bond, the way a dinner should be.

__________

Later, in Vera's room, the group sought refuge on her massive red bed, its crimson sheets soft under the starlight streaming through the wide viewport.

The room was warm, the ship's hum a soothing backdrop, the air thick with the unspoken need to stay close.

They had changed into sleepwear, their earlier tears leaving them raw but united.

Syn lay in the center, his gray shirt swapped for a loose black tank top.