"Your coffee."
Daniel stepped onto the balcony, the sliding glass door closing softly behind him. The city lights stretched endlessly below, glittering in contrast to the heaviness that had followed them home.
Anna stood near the railing, arms folded loosely, her gaze fixed somewhere far beyond the skyline. She hadn't changed out of her silence since they left the venue.
He held the cup out to her.
She took it without looking at him. "Thanks."
The steam curled between them, warm against the cool night air.
After Henry had delivered the news at the ballroom, Daniel had expected Anna to react immediately—to rush out, to demand details, to call someone.
Instead, she had gone still.
Calm.
Too calm.
She had instructed Henry to inform Kathrine. Her voice had been steady, almost detached. Then she had walked out of the venue as though nothing had cracked inside her.
Daniel hadn't questioned her there.
He knew her well enough to recognize when silence wasn't peace—but armor.
