Evan's jaw tightened as he glanced over, his blue eyes narrowing at the way Roxy was curled up in the seat, her knees tucked tightly to her chest. His grip on the steering wheel flexed, but he said nothing at first, letting the silence weigh between them.
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"Roxy," he said, his voice calm but edged with a firmness that left no room for debate. "You need to sit properly. Feet on the floor, seatbelt across your lap. NOW."
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Her green eyes flicked to his face, and she hesitated, a faint trace of defiance flashing in her expression. But it was fleeting. She slowly unfolded herself, her movements stiff and reluctant, and adjusted her seatbelt.
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"There," she muttered, her voice cracking again as she leaned back against the seat, staring out the window.
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Evan let out a quiet breath, trying to keep his emotions in check. "You know why I asked, right?" he said after a moment, his tone softer now.
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Roxy didn’t respond immediately, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her skirt. Finally, she nodded. "Yeah," she whispered.
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Evan sighed quietly, focusing back on the road as he eased the car back onto the highway.
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As the car moved forward, Evan reached over and gently placed his hand on her arm. It wasn’t a grip or a demand. It was just a reminder.
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"I’m here," he said simply, his voice steady.
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