The silence after the second unanswered call felt unbearable.
Lana lowered the phone slowly, staring at the screen as if it might suddenly come alive in her hand. But nothing happened. No message. No returned call. No explanation.
Just the quiet confirmation that Martin had chosen not to answer.
Her chest tightened painfully.
“Of course,” she whispered bitterly to herself. “Why would he?”
She began pacing the living room without even realizing it, her bare feet moving restlessly across the wooden floor. Her mind replayed the moment at the door again and again.
The way he had looked at Thomas.
The way his gaze had shifted to her.
That flash of something wounded.
And then the cold restraint.
It had lasted only seconds, but she could still see it clearly — that mixture of anger and
