THIRD POV :

The night air was biting, but it did nothing to soothe the fire of anxiety racing through Arzoo’s veins. Meerhan stood at the edge of the stone railing, his broad back a wall of solid muscle. Standing at a towering 6'2", he made the expansive terrace feel small. Arzoo, standing much shorter in her emerald green Farsi Salvar suit, felt like a sparrow caught in the shadow of a hawk. The heavy flare of her traditional trousers pooled around her ankles, making her feel weighted down, unable to fly away.