The silence of the empty ballroom wasn't peaceful anymore.
It was suffocating.
It pressed in from every direction—thick, heavy, almost tangible—like the walls themselves were closing in, watching, waiting.
The scent of spilled ginger ale mixed with expensive lilies, turning sickly sweet in the air. What had once smelled like luxury now felt like decay.
Like something beautiful that had gone bad.
Reid's head lifted from my shoulder.
Just seconds ago, he had been breaking.
I had felt it.
The tremor in his body. The crack in his voice. The weight of something raw and human slipping through the armor everyone feared.
But now—
Nothing.
It was gone.
Erased so completely it almost felt like I had imagined it.
His expression reset into something terrifyingly blank. Controlled. Detached.
Untouchable.
His hands didn't leave me.
If anything, his grip tightened slightly—firm, unyielding, anchoring me in place.
Not comfort.
Not reassurance.
Control.
