Throughout the flight, Maximilian did not let go of her hand.
Catherine leaned into him, her head resting against his shoulder, the steady warmth of him grounding her in a way nothing else could. The hum of the aircraft filled the silence around them, low and constant, but her thoughts were anything but calm.
"You think it's Dorian?" she asked quietly.
The question lingered between them, heavier than it sounded.
If it were Jonathan, this would be simpler and predictable, almost. But Dorian…
Her fingers tightened slightly in his grasp.
If it was Dorian, then this wasn't just about Bernice. It was about everything and everyone she loved.
It was about her.
And that realization brought something colder with it.
