Adrian didn’t understand what he was seeing at first.
Then something in his expression changed.
Not confusion.
Realization.
The glass slipped from his hand before he even noticed he had dropped it.
The sound cut through the room.
Sharp.
Final.
I stopped in front of him.
For the first time that night, he looked small.
Not physically.
But in the way someone looks when the story they’ve been telling themselves stops making sense.
“Good evening,” I said.
My voice didn’t rise. It didn’t need to.
He tried to speak, but the words didn’t come.
