Franco set down the liquor bottle.
It was already half past midnight. Petty had slept for a long time and wasn't tired, but as for being clear-headed, she was barely doing better than Franco, who had just downed two bottles of alcohol.
That familiar sensation crept in again, as if a thick fog had wrapped around her brain, dulling her reactions. It wasn't until Franco finished his drink that she finally processed what he meant.
She opened her mouth, wanting to say something, but closed it again, remaining silent.
The full moon on the horizon was obscured by a passing cloud. The stars, previously dimmed by the bright moonlight, suddenly shone with a brilliant intensity.
She tilted her head up to look at the northern sky. The star cluster named after her flickered with a dazzling light.
It was beautiful.
Franco followed her gaze. She loved the stars, and she loved the moon.
The stars were named after her, and the moon was Crescent Lake on the island.
He had never dared to give them to her before.
"Your turn to ask first," Franco said, his gaze dropping back to her face.
Petty didn't look at him. She missed the subtle shift in his eyes, a darkness deeper than the midnight ocean.
A question that had plagued her for a long time—one that had never been properly answered—made her chest tighten.
Frowning, she asked, "That divorce agreement in your study drawer back then... whose was it?"
The ocean waves crashed around them. It felt as though all other sounds in the world had vanished, leaving only the roar of the water.
The silence between them was terrifying.
Just when Petty assumed Franco would refuse to give a straight answer and reach for another drink like he usually did, he spoke.
"Your parents'."

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