"What do you know, huh?" he spat, his voice shaking with the intensity of his frustration. "What could you possibly understand about any of this?"
Esme set her coffee down, the sound of the cup meeting the table a small but sharp contrast to the weight of Ray's emotions crashing down around them. She met his eyes, her gaze steady and unyielding, but there was something in her expression—something that told Ray she wasn't just brushing him off.
"I know more than you think," she said quietly, her voice steady but with an edge.
Ray's body went rigid, his fists clenched tightly at his sides as Esme's words sliced through the heavy air between them. Her calm, detached tone stung worse than any shouting could have. It was like she saw through all the walls he had built, piercing right through his anger, his frustration, and his pain.
