The drive back remained uninterrupted.
The estate gates opened as the car approached. The headlights cut across the path ahead, catching the trimmed edges of the grounds where winter had not fully receded. Cold in the soil. Cold in the air across the open space. Cold in the way the trees stood without leaves.
Inside the car, nothing carried forward in words.
Franz kept his attention on the road, posture unchanged. Arianne sat beside him, her gaze directed ahead, not fixed on anything specific. The conversation at the bar had ended there. It had not been left behind.
When the car stopped, the engine cut.
Neither of them moved.
Then Arianne reached for the door.
The air met her again — cool, present. Franz followed, closing the distance to the entrance without speaking.
The door opened. The house was warm. No sound from upstairs.
Arianne stepped inside, removed her coat, set her phone on the entry table. Her movements even. Unchanged on the surface.
Franz came in behind her.
