After about an hour, Williams and Dera finally said their goodbyes to Charlotte and left the place. It was a soft farewell, not the kind that bore tears or dramatic goodbyes, but rather the heavy kind that clung to the air like fog, thick and filled with understanding and unspent words.
Charlotte's hands lingered a little longer in Dera's, her eyes glistening under the dim light of the small house. Williams, though composed, kept glancing back at the woman who he was sure would be succumbing to the cold hands of death soon.
The mountain road was winding, shrouded in stretches of misty silence occasionally broken by the crunch of gravel beneath their boots. Dera walked beside him, while his strong arms held onto Dexter.
They were still on their way down when the sharp buzz of Williams' phone broke the silence. He stopped abruptly and pulled it out, his thumb brushing over the screen. Roman's name lit up the display.
He didn't hesitate.
