Sylvia stood frozen near the doorway for five long seconds, her jaw trembling slightly as she looked from Ethan to me and back again.

She reached up and straightened the lapel of her velvet coat, smoothing the heavy black fabric with two quick, jerky motions.

She looked past Ethan’s shoulder and locked eyes with me one last time, her expression dark with anger and defeat.

“I’m sorry you had to find out this way, Rachel,” Sylvia said in a quiet, bitter voice that barely carried across the small room.

She turned sharply on her heel and pushed out into the corridor, her heavy shoes hitting the hard floor in a quick, retreating rhythm.