"The hall glittered. My stomach didn't."
The revelation that Carroway claimed Eli had destroyed his career had followed Silver through the remaining hours of the day like a shadow that refused to be shaken, growing darker and more substantial with each passing moment. She'd tried to focus on her afternoon classes, attempted to lose herself in the familiar rhythms of academic discourse, but every lecture felt like background noise to the psychological warfare that was being waged inside her head.
By evening, when Americus had appeared at her door with the midnight-blue dress draped over her arm like a battle standard, Silver felt like she was preparing for combat rather than a social event. The formal gown was undeniably beautiful—silk that caught the light and transformed it into liquid sapphire—but putting it on felt like donning armor for a battle she wasn't sure she could win.
