Ziora stood quietly by the side, her eyes darting between Diara and Raymond as they embraced. The rawness of the moment tugged at her heart, but she held back, giving them the space they needed.
She busied herself with clearing a corner of the cluttered room, pushing aside a pile of discarded fabrics and broken furniture. The room was a far cry from what it once had been, but she would fix that. They all would.
When Diara finally pulled away, her tears subsiding into quiet sniffles, Raymond didn't let go entirely.
His hands rested gently on her shoulders, his gaze fixed on her face. The way he looked at her, it was as though he were trying to piece together the fragments of the woman he'd once known.
Diara's eyes were hollow, her features drained of the vibrant energy he remembered so vividly. She sat stiffly, her body almost too fragile for the weight she carried.
Raymond's jaw tightened, his anger simmering just below the surface.