Adrian's POV
The silence between us is louder than any scream.
Alana has stopped meeting my gaze. At breakfast, she sits across from me like a statue carved from frost. Her fingers toy with the rim of her cup, tracing the edge in slow, absent-minded circles. She doesn't lift it. Doesn't taste it. Her hazel eyes flicker to mine for the briefest heartbeat—then drop back to the table, guarded and unreadable. I watch her, studying the small tremble in her jaw, the tension in her shoulders, the way her breath catches when I shift too close. She's pretending to be calm, composed. But I see the fortress she's hiding behind, every stone carefully placed to keep me out.
My food grows cold untouched, forgotten. I can't force myself to swallow anything. My appetite is buried under the weight of her silence, her absence while still sitting right in front of me.
I know who's to blame.
Elsa.
