He hesitated, the weight of her question hanging in the air like a boulder pressing down on his chest.
The truth clawed at his throat, threatening to spill out, but fear—raw and visceral—held him back.
His voice came out strained, a whisper more than anything. "I thought you'd forgotten me... It's too late."
"Too late for what?" Eleanor's voice trembled with a mix of confusion and rising frustration. Her eyes searched his, demanding honesty, desperate for answers he wasn't ready to give.
Riley swallowed hard, trying to find the right words, but they stuck in his throat like shards of glass. Finally, he forced them out. "Too late to find them, I was there when they died."
The air between them seemed to freeze. Eleanor's expression faltered, a flicker of pain breaking through her composed exterior.
"What do you mean? You were there?" she asked, her voice growing faint, as though the question itself was too heavy for her to carry.
