I walked into the room, only to meet Ivan sitting on the bed. He didn't even look up when I entered, just sat still on the bed. I knew he was still devastated about Lowe's betrayal. The weight of it hung in the air, a palpable presence that seemed to dim the sunlight streaming through the windows.
"Ivan," I called softly, moving closer to him. He didn't respond, his eyes fixed on some distant point beyond the walls of our bedroom. I sat down beside him, placing a hand on his knee. "Ivan, talk to me."
He blinked slowly, as if coming out of a trance. "What is there to say, Arianne?" He finally murmured, his voice thick with grief. "He was my friend, someone I was supposed to trust. So how? How could he do this to me?"
I had no answer for him. Lowe's betrayal had been a blow to us all, but for Ivan, it was like losing a part of himself. "I know…"
