“I have to go,” he said, already backing away, his usual grace replaced by an urgent awkwardness. “I’m sorry, there’s something I need to handle.”

“Now?” Juniper asked, hating how small her voice sounded. “But we just…”

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, his eyes meeting hers… and for a moment they just looked at each other, everything unsaid hanging between them. Like they’d both been holding the same breath since the other night, waiting for something.

Then he turned away first.

…and the breath exhausted itself into the frost…

She felt it… that invisible thread that had been pulling them together, stretching now, straining, and then… something like breaking. Not a snap, but a slow unraveling.

The festival swirled around her, but Juniper barely noticed, her mind replaying Daniel’s hasty departure on an endless loop. Everywhere she looked, she saw echoes of him… a tall figure in the crowd that wasn’t him, the ghost of his smile in a stranger’s laugh, the space beside her that felt impossibly empty. Sophia’s gentle squeeze of her arm brought her back to the present, the warmth of her friend’s touch a quiet but forceful juxtaposition to the cold settling in her chest.