In the tense silence of the moment, Tryson's gaze remained fixed on Angel, a knot of apprehension tightening in his chest.
The weight of the impending truth pressed down on him, each unspoken word a heavy burden.
He feared the raw, visceral pain his revelation might inflict, the potential shattering of the fragile reality she clung to.
Even though Arthur was the architect of the wrongdoing, the intricate web of their lives meant Angel already possessed a fragmented understanding of the situation, a shadowy awareness of who truly held the threads of responsibility.
Learning the extent of Arthur's insidious actions had been a blow enough, but now, just as Tryson seemed to retreat into the suffocating confines of his silence, bracing himself for the inevitable fallout, Angel's voice cut through the air.
