Diane and Seamus sat across from each other, separated by a small table. Beyond the porch, everything was white.
Snow covered the ground, and the only sounds came from flakes settling softly or animals moving through the trees in the distance.
It was peaceful. At least, it should have been.
Diane shifted again in her chair, shoulders tense, posture stiff. She looked like someone sitting on needles rather than a cushion, fingers curling and uncurling in her lap. She never once looked up.
The silence stretched on, long enough to become uncomfortable.
Seamus finally sighed. "So, what do you want to talk about?"
He already had a guess. It was the same unresolved tension from before they went north. Was he still angry at her? Yes, a little. Mostly because the quiet life in Rowani had ended the moment it started.
Vincent still had not sent him any message, but Seamus was certain of one thing. Anyone who held a grudge against Andrew would surface soon enough.
