I slowly looked at each of them, allowing the silence to linger until it became almost uncomfortable. One by one, their eyes shifted away from mine.
Then I smiled—not bitterly, not dramatically, just calmly. As if they had suggested rearranging the living room instead of dismantling my entire life.
“You’re right,” I said quietly. “What’s done is done.”
Relief crossed Derek’s face a little too quickly. He had prepared himself for tears or accusations. He was ready to defend against anger—but not agreement.
Cynthia straightened slightly. “So… you’re willing to cooperate?”
