"A shadow broke between us."
Silver's small victory in establishing boundaries felt hollow in the glittering formal hall, the weight of her confrontation with Carroway settling into her bones like the particular ache that followed overexertion on damaged joints. Her assertion of independence had been necessary, even empowering, but it left her feeling exposed and vulnerable in the midst of Yale's social elite, all of whom seemed to be cataloguing every detail of whatever drama had just unfolded on their makeshift dance floor.
The chandeliers blazed overhead with renewed intensity, their golden light scattering across the polished parquet floor in patterns that should have been beautiful but now felt harsh and revealing. Every crystal seemed designed to illuminate her moment of crisis, to ensure that her resistance to Carroway's advances would be witnessed and analyzed by an audience she'd never chosen to perform for.
