Sullivan took the towel from Dahlia's trembling hands and moved behind her on the bed. The warmth of the fireplace enveloped them, gradually chasing away the cold that had seeped into their bodies.
"I'm sorry," Dahlia murmured, her voice barely audible. "I didn't mean to wake you up at this hour."
"Is that what matters right now?" Sullivan replied, his tone sharp, the chill in his voice contrasting with the heat of the room. His gaze bore into the back of her head as he continued, "I've asked you three times why you went to the pond, and each time, you've stayed silent. Just tell me the truth, Dahlia. Whatever it is, I'm ready to face it. If… if you're suffocating with me, just say so."
