As they walked past the closed bakeries, still hunting for a place to eat, Aveline suddenly turned.
"While we're here…" She said with a sly smirk, the corners of her lips curving like she was about to stir some mischief.
There was a glint in her eye—a familiar one Marcus had seen many times before. The kind of look that spelled trouble.
"Are you two… dating or something?" she asked, the question laced with mock innocence and the unmistakable curiosity of a nosy sister poking her nose where it didn't belong.
Cynthia flailed her hands in front of her, flustered. "I already said we're just friends!" she replied quickly, her voice high-pitched with embarrassment.
Aveline pouted, clearly unsatisfied with the answer. She turned her head toward Marcus with a look that screamed your turn.
"And how about you, brother…?" she asked sweetly, almost too sweetly. "What do you think of Cynthia here?"
