Not heavily.
Just enough to soften the city.
He found himself staring out the conference room window, watching flakes dissolve against the glass.
Amelia had loved the first snow.
She used to stand Harper on the windowsill, holding her safely from behind.
- “Look, baby,” she would whisper. “The sky is shaking out its blankets.”
Harper would clap and squeal.
Elias closed his laptop.
His assistant looked startled.
- “Mr. Carter? Should I move the rest of your calls?”
- “Cancel them.”
- “All of them?”
- “Yes.”
He did not explain.
On the drive home, traffic crawled through Beacon Hill. Tires hissed over wet streets. Holiday lights glowed behind frosted windows.
Elias sat in the back seat, staring at nothing.
He imagined walking into the house.
The silence would be there.
It always was.
Margaret would be in the parlor or kitchen.
Talia would be somewhere doing laundry.
Harper would be upstairs, folded into herself beside the window.
He would kiss her forehead.
She would not respond.
He would tell himself tomorrow might be different.
Then tomorrow would come and destroy him all over again.
The car stopped outside the brownstone.
Elias stepped out before the driver could open his door.
