Alan had not expected to see Amelia here, much less looking this troubled. The surprise of it struck him more deeply than he cared to admit. Her face was drawn tight with tension, her expression guarded as though she were carrying the weight of something heavy on her shoulders. For a moment he simply sat in silence, his sharp eyes fixed on her, his lips pressed into a thin, unyielding line. There was an air about her, a quiet composure that told him she was forcing herself to keep calm, even though beneath that surface something was clearly churning.
Amelia, however, recovered from the awkward encounter first. She had always possessed that ability to mask her emotions quickly, to reclaim her composure when most people would stumble. "Mr. Blake," she said with a polite nod, her voice steady though perhaps a little softer than usual. She broke the silence with a formality that gave her a measure of control over the situation. "What brings you here?"
