The Gothic corridor felt like a tomb after Eli's words landed between them with the finality of a blade through ice. Silver stood frozen in the medieval stonework hallway, watching his retreating figure disappear around the corner toward the residential college's main entrance. The ancient walls seemed to press closer, their carved gargoyles leering down at her humiliation with stone-cold amusement, their grotesque faces twisted into expressions that seemed to mock her naivety.
Don't flatter yourself for even a second, Valentine.
