The awkward silence inside the Red Boots bar stretched on for over five minutes, thick with tension. Eleanor, still sore and weary, glanced around at the eyes discreetly watching her. She wasn't sure what to expect—hostility, curiosity, or something worse. But in the end, Ralph's outstretched hand, steady and patient, was a relief.
With a small sigh, she placed her hand in his, feeling the roughness of callouses against her palm. Ralph, too, exhaled, as if relieved that she had accepted his silent offer. Without another word, he led her toward the staircase in a hushed manner, the noise of the bar fading into the background.
