The marble floor in the gallery shone like a quiet lake, catching every camera flash as Lyse and Brendan climbed the red-roped stairs together. Each step echoed in the vastness, their ascent watched by dozens of eyes hungry for stories. Lyse stared straight ahead, her posture perfect, fingers barely brushing Brendan's arm as if the smallest touch might betray a secret. To the crowd gathering on either side, they looked flawless like a fairytale couple, reunited beneath the glittering absurdity of the chandeliers, their movements choreographed for the benefit of the hungry lenses and whispered speculation.
"Just smile," Brendan whispered, lips barely moving. "They will get bored faster."
