The weight of Michael's warnings clung to Angela as she and Edmund returned to the apartment. The tension between them was palpable, stretched taut by unspoken fears and the raw vulnerability of the night. Angela's hands trembled as she fumbled with the keys, the lock refusing to cooperate until Edmund gently placed his hand over hers. The door clicked open, and they stepped inside, the quiet hum of the heater the only sound.
Angela dropped her coat onto the back of a chair, her movements stiff and mechanical. She stood in the middle of the room, her back to Edmund, staring out the window at the city lights. Her reflection in the glass looked small, fragile, like a shadow of the person she once was. The enormity of everything, Julie's arrest, Michael's ominous warning, the shadowy forces now threatening her life pressed down on her shoulders, threatening to crush her.
Edmund's voice broke the silence, soft but insistent. "Angela."