The question hung in the air.
Demian didn't answer.
Valerie let out a slow breath, as if she had to pull each word from deep within her chest.
"You told me to stay silent," she continued. "You told me to keep my distance from Ivanka. You told me not to be bold, not to react, not to show anything."
She met Demian's eyes, no hesitation left in her gaze.
"And now you say I don't know anything when you're the one who made sure I was never told."
Her voice didn't rise. She wasn't accusing. And that was precisely what made her words cut deeper.
Demian took a step closer.
"You're by my side," he said. "That should be enough."
Valerie gave a faint smile, a weary one.
"Enough for you," she murmured. "Not for me."
Demian fell silent again.
For a moment, he looked as if he were about to say something perhaps a defense, perhaps an order but the words never came.
Valerie straightened, pushing slightly against the door behind her, creating a bit of space between them a breath of air.
