The bell's clang still reverberated in Silver's chest like the echo of a blade striking ice, scattering her nerves into fragments that seemed to settle somewhere between her ribs and her racing heart. The moment that had almost happened—whatever it had been or might have become—lay shattered on the Gothic marble floor between them like pieces of something precious that could never be reassembled.
Across the heavy wooden table, Eli had leaned back into his chair with the careful deliberation of someone retreating behind familiar defenses. His expression had shuttered tight, every trace of vulnerability erased as though he regretted every word he'd just let slip past his usual guard. The distance between them felt suddenly vast despite the physical proximity, an ocean of unspoken words and missed opportunities.
