**TITLE: Dreams Folding Into Broken Time**
**Chapter 241: Under His Control**
Roman stood there, his hand resting on the counter, illuminated by the soft glow of the kitchen light. He appeared utterly exhausted—his complexion pale and the dark circles beneath his eyes resembling bruises, a testament to the weight of the world he seemed to carry.
I couldn’t quite pinpoint why the words slipped from my lips. Perhaps it was the palpable tension hanging in the air, or maybe it was the desperate need to divert my thoughts from the unsettling revelations we had just unearthed about his family. It could also have been the instinctive urge to ensure that this moment, however fragile, did not fade into the abyss of my memory.
“I need your help with something,” I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper.
Roman’s head tilted ever so slightly, his eyes narrowing as a flicker of caution danced within them. “With what?” he inquired, his tone a mixture of curiosity and apprehension.
“Dean,” I replied, the name escaping my lips smaller than I had intended. It felt as though it were a fragile thing, reluctant to exist in this moment where the air was thick with borrowed peace.
In that instant, Roman’s body froze, his hand gripping the counter with a tension that made his knuckles turn white. “Savannah…” he began, his voice low and heavy.
“I know what you’re thinking,” I interjected quickly, urgency lacing my words. “But he didn’t do it, Roman. He didn’t hurt Chloe. He didn’t take her. He’s being framed. I know it.”
Slowly, Roman turned to face me, disbelief flickering in his eyes like a candle struggling against the wind. “You can’t possibly expect me to believe—”
“I do,” I insisted, my tone firm, unwavering. “I’m not asking you to help me prove he’s innocent. I’m asking you to help me prove that my gut feeling is right.”
He stared at me as if I had spoken in a foreign tongue. “Sav, you don’t know what you’re asking. That man—”
“That man,” I interrupted, my voice rising, “connived to ruin my life. I know he made mistakes, but not this. He wouldn’t hurt Chloe. He loved her.”
Roman’s jaw tightened, anger flashing in his eyes before it morphed into something more complex, a mix of concern and frustration. “He’s your ex, Savannah. Every time his name comes up, chaos follows. You nearly lost your mind because of him. You can’t keep cleaning up his messes.”
“This isn’t just about him,” I snapped, my voice louder than I had intended. “This is about my sister. She’s missing, scared, and someone is being wrongfully accused for it. If we can clear Dean’s name, we might uncover the truth about her disappearance, or at least find out what’s really going on.”
Roman’s gaze bore into mine for a long, silent moment, the muscle in his jaw twitching as if he were battling an internal conflict. “I just don’t think helping him is a smart move right now,” he finally replied, his voice low and steady. “Not with everything else happening. Not with my father, not with your mother, not with—”
“Please,” I whispered, the word escaping my lips with a tremor. It was too soft, too desperate.
He looked up then, truly looked, and whatever argument he had been preparing crumbled at the sight of me. His shoulders sagged slightly, the breath he released a quiet surrender.
“Savannah…”

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