The penthouse felt quieter than it had any right to be.Not peaceful. Not calm. Just heavy.Ivy stood near the tall windows, her arms wrapped around herself, staring out at the darkening sky. The city lights were beginning to flicker on one by one, distant and detached, like a world that continued moving no matter how much hers had fractured. Behind her, Richard sat on the edge of the sofa, shoulders slumped, his hands clasped together so tightly his knuckles had gone white.He had not moved in a long time.Richard sat hunched forward, elbows on his knees, his hands clasped together so tightly that the tendons stood out beneath his skin. The room around him felt too large, too quiet, as if the walls themselves were waiting for him to say something he did not yet have the strength to admit.Riley, who had been standing near the doorway, turned immediately. The sharpness in her posture softened the moment she saw him like that. She walked back toward him, slow and careful, as if sudden
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