Eli shifted his weight on the carpeted stairs, subtly glancing at Arthur Hayes one last time.
"Thanks for everything," he said, voice steady. "It's been… a pleasure."
Arthur nodded. "You're welcome, Eli. Take care on your way back."
For the first time all evening, Eli felt something like peace settle into him. The tension that had been lingering at the edges of his mind—an unease he hadn't fully named—softened, replaced slightly by something quieter. He didn't linger. He wanted to leave while that calm still held.
He looked for Sam.
Not in the living room. Not near the kitchen. Not among the remaining guests. Eli's gaze drifted upward.
The staircase leading to the upper hallway caught his attention. The hum of conversation above was faint, muted. He climbed lightly, the carpet absorbing his steps. At the far end of the hallway, he spotted Sam.
And Sam wasn't alone.
A girl stood close to him, pressed in just enough to leave no doubt. Eli stopped short.
"Bad timing?" Eli asked.
Sam looked up, startled, then sighed. "You leaving already?"
"Yeah," Eli said. "Figured I'd disappear before I interrupt anything else."
Sam smirked. "Fair. Text me when you get home."
"Will do," Eli said, already turning away.
He headed back down the stairs.
Halfway down, something shifted in his field of view.
Two figures stood near the large window at the far end of the room. At first, only silhouettes—then posture, then familiarity resolving itself with each step.
Arthur Hayes.
And Mrs. Hill.
Their voices were low, measured. Eli couldn't hear the words, but the rhythm carried tension—controlled, restrained. Not an argument exactly, but close enough to feel it. The kind that stayed just beneath the surface.
He slowed.
It was unnecessary to go any closer. He had already said his goodbyes. There was no reason to approach again. And yet, without fully understanding why, he found himself moving toward them.
Curiosity argued with him. So did something quieter—something that had been circling him all evening, never asking outright, only nudging.
As he drew nearer, it struck him—this was the first time he was seeing her properly. All the time before she had been swallowed by shadows, the taxi wrapped in darkness and rain-muted streets. Even at the party, she had remained distant, glimpsed only from across rooms and through crowds.
Now there was nothing in the way.
The night before hadn't done her justice. Or maybe it had concealed too much. The gloom, the confined space, the movement of the car—none of it had allowed him to see her like this. Clear. Composed. Real. A beauty hardly he has seen anywhere before and yet with that clarity came something else.
Annoyance. Frustration.
The sudden, unwelcome realization that a woman he knew from a single car ride—nothing more—had managed to take up this much space in his thoughts. It irritated him. The influence, the pull. He resented it, resented her for it.
And yet, the feeling wasn't clean enough to be hatred.
It was the kind that wanted distance and proximity at the same time. The kind that wished never to see her again—and just as strongly, wanted to see her once more.
Her gaze met his.
This time, there was something else there—not recognition, not warmth—but a faint, unreadable curiosity, as though she were quietly taking measure of him in return.
It lasted only a moment.
Eli nodded once and continued down the stairs.
He didn't look back.
But he knew she had watched him go.