The drive home was quiet, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence.
It was the kind that settled in after something important had been said—after truths had been laid bare and neither of them wanted to risk breaking the fragile calm by speaking too soon.
Daniel kept both hands on the steering wheel, eyes fixed on the road ahead. Marian watched the city blur past the window, her reflection faint in the glass. Every so often, their fingers brushed on the console between them, a silent reassurance that neither had pulled away.
When they reached the house, Isabella’s shoes were still by the door, one sneaker tipped on its side like she’d kicked it off in a hurry. Marian felt a familiar tightness in her chest. That small, ordinary detail made everything suddenly feel heavier.
“She’s in her ro
