Harmony’s Breaking Point
The antechamber was smaller than the hall. Lower ceiling. No flags. No carved symbols. Just whitewashed walls, a narrow window facing the harbor, and a table that looked like it had once held shipping invoices and now held nothing at all. Neutral overflow space. Where decisions waited to become dangerous. The sea was still audible through the shutters—but muted here, like someone had closed a door on the argument. Harmony stood with her back to the window. She hadn't taken off her coat. I closed the door behind us, and the latch sounded too loud. For a moment, neither of us spoke. The silence wasn't heavy. It was fragile. Like glass under pressure. "You okay?" I asked, and hated how insufficient it sounded. Harmony let out a breath that might have been a laugh if it had any h
- Writer
