"His eyes said more than his words."
The heavy wooden door of Americus's suite had barely closed behind them before the Gothic corridor seemed to exhale, releasing some of the tension that had been building in that sequin-filled room like pressure in a steam valve. The medieval stones absorbed their footsteps as Silver and Eli made their way toward the spiral staircase, the ancient architecture providing a neutral backdrop for whatever conversation was about to unfold between them.
The night pressed in close around them as they emerged from the residential college into the courtyard, the February darkness thick enough to feel like a physical presence. It muffled the usual hum of campus life—no distant laughter from other buildings, no music bleeding through dormitory windows, no conversations echoing off Gothic facades. Even the ever-present New Haven traffic seemed muted, as if the medieval walls were creating a buffer between them and the outside world.
