The sound of suitcase wheels cutting across the polished floor arrived before Peter himself, slow and deliberate like each movement had been stripped of emotion before being allowed to exist. Caro stood at the edge of the corridor without stepping forward, her fingers tightening around her sleeves as if holding herself together physically was the only thing preventing collapse. The house felt unusually large, not because of its space, but because it was suddenly empty of everything that used to belong between them. And then she saw him, walking as if she no longer occupied the same world he was preparing to leave.
