In the gilded corner of the room, a man sat with a glass of red wine, looking like one drowning in his own expensive suit. When he saw Evelyn approaching, his weary eyes sparked with recognition.
"Jackson Owen!" she whispered, her voice a mix of shock and genuine delight.
"Evelyn!" The man stood up, a wide smile breaking across his face. He looked more polished, more burdened, but his eyes were the same. Evelyn didn't think; she went straight into his arms for a fierce, brief hug.
For half a second, the world felt safe. Then she stepped back, noticing the way he looked at his empty arms with a flash of melancholy.
"What are you doing here in Munich?" she asked, sitting beside him with her back to the crowd.
