Cleopatra and Anthony stepped into the ice rink, the soft hiss of gliding blades echoing across the polished ice like a distant whisper. The air carried a cool, faintly metallic chill that brushed against Cleopatra’s skin as she paused at the edge of the rink. Her gaze drifted to the endless stretch of ice beneath the bright lights, silent and smooth like a frozen mirror holding secrets she could not name. For a long moment, she simply stood there, eyes deep and distant, as if the white expanse were calling to something buried quietly inside her.

“What’s your size again?” Anthony asked quietly.

“I’m not skating,” Cleopatra replied at once,...