The silence stretched on for what felt like an eternity.
Liam glanced at Elsa, who was staring down at her own menu like it held the secrets of the universe.
Her jaw was tight, her shoulders tense, and her fingers were gripping the edges of the menu hard enough that her knuckles had turned white.
Finally, her mother cleared her throat and set her menu down. "So, Elsa." Her voice was calm, gentle. "How have you been doing, sweetheart?"
Elsa looked up, her expression carefully neutral. "I'm fine, Mom."
Diana nodded slowly, then glanced at her husband with a soft smile. "You see, honey? She's alright."
Her father's expression remained hard, his jaw tight as he stared at his daughter, saying nothing.
Diana reached over and squeezed Elsa's hand gently. "Your father has been so worried about you, sweetheart. Asking me every single day if I've heard from you—are you eating properly, are you safe, are you making good decisions."
