The words hung in the air, fragile and uncertain. She braced herself for his answer, knowing it could be another cryptic response or, worse, no answer at all.
He leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable. His fingers drummed lightly against the table as if considering his next move. After what felt like an eternity, he finally spoke.
"You ask a lot of questions," he said, his voice calm but with a sharp edge to it. "But not everything is meant to be answered right now."
Tiara's heart sank. *Not again.* Another deflection, another cryptic answer. She gripped the edge of the table, trying to keep her frustration in check. She was tired—tired of the games, tired of the control he seemed to have over her.
"Eat," he commanded again, this time with more firmness.
