The room had fallen into an uncomfortable silence.
Mason and Nicholas stood frozen, locked in a gaze that carried years of unspoken history, pain, and unresolved resentment.
The air between them was dense.
Anastasia, lying in the hospital bed, shifted slightly. She could no longer pretend not to notice the obvious tension crackling like dry leaves between both men.
"Hello Nicholas... you are here," she said, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. Her voice cracked faintly, trying to dissolve the standoff.
"Yeah," Nicholas replied, his tone casual, too casual. "I came as soon as I heard. Your colleagues mentioned what happened. I was... worried."
Mason didn't flinch or turn. He remained seated, back straight, hands clenched on his thighs, face unreadable.
'He's not leaving? That's strange. Mason usually storms off when Nicholas appears. Why's he quiet now?' Anastasia thought, confused by his restraint.
