ALIANA

The tension doesn’t disappear all at once.

It loosens.

Like a fist unclenching slowly, reluctantly, until the room remembers it’s allowed to breathe again.

People start moving. Whispering. Security pretends this was all part of the evening’s entertainment. Someone laughs a little too loudly. Glasses clink again, though hands are still shaking.

Luca keeps King in his arms, one hand firm at his back, the other resting easily like this—holding a child in the middle of armed men—is the most natural thing in the world.

Ron walks up to me, rubbing the back of his neck, eyes darting between Lluca and King.

Then he lets out a low laugh....