Chapter 45 Confessions And Masks

• Leo leaned back in the studio chair, the leather creaking beneath him. The room smelled faintly of old paint and something else, something heavier, like the weight of dreams that never quite came true. He tossed a rubber ball against the far wall with a steady rhythm. Thud. Thud. The sound echoed in the quiet, each bounce a small reminder that time was still moving, even if everything else felt stuck.
• Across from him, Fred stood with his arms crossed tight over his chest, like he was holding himself back from saying too much or maybe too little. His eyes were sharp, his jaw clenched. He didn’t look angry. He looked betrayed.
• “So let me get this straight,” Fred said, voice low, stripped of its usual warmth. “Zara asked you to be her date… to a masquerade party.”