Evelyn didn't respond right away. She didn't need to.
She just stared at him with a calm, almost serene expression—a gaze too peaceful for the storm of grief clearly buried beneath it. Then, silently, as if her body could no longer hold it in, the tears began to fall again. Her already puffy, red-rimmed eyes welled up, and streams ran quietly down her cheeks.
Art didn't need to hear a word. He understood.
She loved him. She had always loved him—deeper, far deeper than she'd ever dared to show.
He let out a small, breathless laugh. It was just... tired. His head tilted back, eyes scanning the sky above as though he expected the sky to offer some twisted form of wisdom.
