Christopher stood there for a moment, watching her silently. The sight of her like this stirred something unnameable within him—frustration, concern, perhaps guilt.
Finally, he walked toward her and broke the silence.
“Do you know what you did wrong?”
Evelyn’s eyelashes quivered as the frost clinging to them glinted faintly in the moonlight. The icy crust masked most of the emotions in her eyes, leaving her expression unreadable.
Evelyn lifted her head slowly, her voice barely above a whisper, hoarse and broken,
“Chris, my knees hurt.”
Her words hung in the icy air, fragile yet defiant.
Christopher let out a soft sigh, the kind that spoke of exasperation laced with resignation. He crossed his arms, visibly trying to rein in his temper.
“Evelyn, you know Charlotte and I grew up together. I’ve always been close to her and I care about her like family. That’s not something you can just change.”
He paused, searching her face for understanding, then continued, “I know you don’t like her, but you can’t lash out at her like that. She’s not in good health—her heart condition makes things worse. She can’t handle the stress.”