The night air held a chill as Michael and I slipped away from the Halgate Gala's golden light and relentless small talk. My heels sank into the damp grass with each step toward the balcony's edge. Nelson's public toast still rang in my ears: "To family—lost, found, and rebuilt."

Words. Just words.

But his face when he'd said them—that hadn't been just for show. The tremor in his voice, the way Elizabeth had squeezed his hand. Even she had managed something close to sincerity tonight.

"You're quiet," Michael said, his shoulder brushing mine as we leaned against the stone railing. The garden below stretched into darkness, punctuated by soft landscape...