"She listened like no one else had."
The aftermath of Eli's calculated indifference followed Silver out of the Gothic lecture hall like a personal storm cloud, heavy with the kind of emotional pressure that made breathing feel like conscious work. The ancient stones seemed to have absorbed her humiliation and were now radiating it back at her in waves, each step across the campus quad a reminder that she was carrying her heartbreak in full view of Yale's most public stage.
The February air bit at her exposed skin with crystalline sharpness, but the cold that should have shocked her system back into functioning order only made the tightness in her chest worse. Students passed her in both directions, bundled in winter coats and scarves, their voices creating the comfortable buzz of collegiate life that felt like it belonged to a different universe—one where people didn't fall apart over photographs and silence.
