Half an hour passed before the yard finally went quiet. The sound of the engine faded, and the pressure in the air loosened slightly.
Ashton came in a few minutes later.
I had already eaten. Too much, maybe. My body felt heavy, and I kept noticing something strange—my abdomen felt fuller than before. Not painful. Just… different. I told myself I would go for a check-up tomorrow.
Mrs. Eriksen was still in the kitchen when he entered. She froze the moment she saw him.
"Oh my!" she gasped, rushing forward. "Look at you!"
I glanced over from the sofa.
Ashton stood there, tall as always, but not untouched. His lip was split, blood dried at the corner of his mouth. His face was slightly bruised, but his posture didn't bend. Even injured, he still carried that quiet pressure, like nothing could bring him down completely.
While Mrs. Eriksen hurried to find the first-aid kit, I stood up slowly. "It's late. I'm going to rest."
