Later at night, Arthur was walking, stopping just short of the threshold to Silver’s room. He forced himself to breathe, to settle the storm inside his chest.
You don’t command your way back in, Matt’s words echoed, you meet her where she is.
Arthur lifted his hand and knocked once.
“Silver.”
Silence.
Then movement, slow footsteps, then the door opened a fraction.
Her scent hit him first; There was fear, exhaustion and beneath it all, something hollowed out, like a place inside her that had been scraped raw.
Her eyes lifted to his.
Relief flared there before she could hide it.
Arthur’s chest ached.
“You’re back,” she said.
“Yes.”
That was all he said.
He didn’t step inside, didn’t crowd her space. He stayed in the doorway like a guest who knew he’d overstayed his welcome befor
