Vance didn't reply immediately. His grip tightened around the handles of the wheelchair, his knuckles whitening slightly. "Why are you wearing that dress?" he asked, his gaze fixed straight ahead, his tone clipped.
Estelle glanced down at herself in the gown. Her stomach dipped. Oh no. For a split second, her mind went blank. Then she forced herself to breathe, lifting her chin just a fraction as she gathered something, anything, that sounded believable.
"Well, we were preparing for our first appearance," she said, keeping her voice steady, though her fingers curled faintly against her lap. "I was just trying on some of the dresses Roman got for me," she said, but she didn't look back at him, didn't dare.
The elevator hummed softly beneath them, the air feeling more suffocating with every passing second. Then, ding. The sound broke the tension.
