"Secrets spill eventually."
The cautious optimism from Dr. Carter's assessment had carried Silver through the rest of the afternoon on a strange mixture of hope and exhaustion. Her knee ached with the particular soreness that came from productive therapy rather than destructive overuse, but the sensation still made walking across campus feel like an endurance test she hadn't trained for.
By evening, she'd retreated to the library café, one of the few spaces on campus that managed to feel both medieval and modern. Gothic arches framed large windows that looked out over the snow-covered quad, while the smell of espresso and baked goods created an atmosphere more conducive to actual studying than the silent intimidation of Sterling Memorial's main reading rooms.
