It was a grey morning. The room’s colours felt muted, weak sunlight barely stretching a metre beyond the window.

Rolling out of bed, I found Sol rereading the diary in the dim light spilling through.

“You’re awake.”

There it was again—that warm smile of his.

“Turn on the lights if you’re going to read.”

“You were still sleeping though.” He tipped his head sideways, thoughtfully massaging his chin in an almost comical manner.

I hovered near where he sat.

“Didn’t you finish reading it yesterday?”

“I was tired,” he admitted. “I skimmed parts and missed some things.”

Moving away to get ready, I left Sol by the window. He continued reading quietly, legs crossed, one arm propping up his cheek.

He always woke up early. Using that extra time to work through the diary seemed like a sensible use of it.

The wilted flower still lay on the table. Despite its crumbling petals, the stalk remained as proof it had once existed.

Sol finished reading while I got dressed. He slipped the diary back into my sling bag.

“My arm will get tired if I keep carrying it,” he said.

We left the hotel room as though time had frozen inside it. The still air, faint sunlight, and cool morning made it feel like I was stepping away from somewhere placid.

The Lornes’ building looked different under the grey morning sky. Gloomier somehow.

Last night’s rain had left the path littered with puddles. Though I avoided most of them, every now and then I stepped deliberately into one, pleased when my foot entered the water without creating a splash.

In the lift lobby, Sol pressed the buzzer. No one asked who we were. The lift just opened.

I teased Sol for sneezing again as we rode the lift up. He glared daggers at me in response.

It was all in jest though. Besides, it really was colder today.

The Lornes were already waiting outside when the lift doors opened. Greeting us like old friends, they invited us inside.

I was ready to decline. There was no reason to intrude upon their privacy when the invitation felt merely customary.

Sol, however, accepted gracefully, dipping his head in thanks.

“It’d be rude to refuse an invitation,” he said with a smile.

We were seated once again at the same round table as before.

When Mrs Lorne asked whether there had been any updates on the investigation, Sol gave a smooth, prepared response to reassure her.

“So what brings you here today?” Mr Lorne asked gently.

“We wanted to return this.” I pulled Mae’s diary from my sling bag. “Thank you for lending it to us.”

For the investigation, I nearly added. Fortunately, I stopped myself.

I placed the diary at the centre of the table, close enough for Mrs Lorne to reach without needing to lean forward.

Holding it carefully with both hands, she drew it toward herself and lifted it near her face. For a while, she simply stared at the plain leather cover longingly

Then she lowered it onto her lap beneath the table, out of my sight.

Giving a small nod to a nearby maid, Mr Lorne signalled for food to be brought out.

“You really don’t have to do this. We didn’t come here for a free meal,” I stammered.

“You’re repaying us with your company.”

Every awkward silence I had ever shared with another person flashed through my mind at once. My company could be painfully dull.

For once, even Sol seemed unsure what to say. As the plates were laid out before us, he merely thanked them with a flustered expression, rubbing the back of his neck.

As we ate, Sol kept the conversation going with the Lornes. He asked how they met, what work they did—he once told me people enjoy talking about themselves.

Still, they seemed far more interested in hearing about us.

“How did you two become partners?” Mrs Lorne asked as Sol tore a piece of meat from his fork.

“I can’t remember,” Sol replied between bites. “It’s been a long time.”

“But,” he continued, spearing another piece of meat from his plate, “I stuck with him after we first met. He’s nice once you get to know him.”

He probably could’ve chosen a more specific word than “nice”. Then again, when I thought about it, there weren’t many flattering words that suited me.

I remembered being assigned to a case with Sol back in my trainee days. Even then, he had already been unusually shrewd. He talked to me often.

And when I eventually left the force to work independently, he followed me out.

Mrs Lorne looked at me expectantly. She seemed to be waiting for me to say something as well.

“What exactly do you want to know?”

There wasn’t anything about me that felt significant enough to say.

She turned away from me. “You don’t have to say anything.”

While Sol kept the pair engaged with familiar stories from the past, I excused myself to the washroom.

Coming back from the washroom, I passed Mae’s room. The door was open, curtains drawn aside, letting sunlight flood the space.

All the effort to make the bedroom match the vibrancy of the balcony felt pointless now.

The bedroom and balcony were separated by a glass sliding door. The potted plants and hanging ornaments swayed in the wind, held in an isolated kind of tranquillity.

The bedroom itself felt unlived-in.

Beyond the balcony, there was an unobstructed view of the skyline—parks, a lake, a market, the town centre. I found myself wanting a clearer look.

It was inviting, just like last time, but I stayed at the entrance to the bedroom instead.

She must have enjoyed this view.

Stepping away from the doorway, it felt like a final goodbye. The balcony’s soft breeze would no longer be enjoyed by anyone.

Sol was already on his feet when I returned.

“There he is,” he said lightly before turning back to the Lornes. “Thank you for the meal. We should get going.”

They both stood and walked us to the door.

“Please come by again,” Mrs Lorne said. Her husband nodded beside her, a wistful look in his eyes.

This wasn’t courtesy, but a plea.

Sol reassured them that they only needed to text us whenever they wanted company.

Compared to the other day, they seemed far less tense when seeing us off.

“Take care,” I said with a wave.

Mrs Lorne waved back with one hand, the other still cradling the diary against herself like a baby.

Once we stepped into the lift again, I asked Sol, “Why would you want to come all the way here just to eat with them?”

“Then come because you want to,” he replied, “not because you think you’re obligated to.”

“You have to admit, it’s far from where we live. We took a train all the way out here.”

He stared at me blankly for a moment. Then his expression shifted rapidly—thoughtful, restrained, before finally loosening into a small smile.

“Oh well,” he said, “we’ll see what happens when the time comes.”

Sol led me along on what felt like an aimless walk. We weren’t heading back to the hotel, nor towards an eatery or the funeral venue.

“Where are we going?”

“The train station.”

“Why?”

“I need to see something.”

I hadn’t expected to see the train station again before the case was closed. Yet here we were, seated on one of the platform benches with the tracks stretching out before us.

“So… why are we here?” I scoffed.

“They’re here,” he murmured.

“You have to tell me what’s going on.” I raised a brow and turned to follow his gaze.

Ren and Eli entered the station. We were seated far enough from the entrance that neither of them noticed us.

“Eli texted me to come,” Sol whispered.

When I pressed him further, he admitted he didn’t know why either.

The two of them stood quietly by the platform, waiting for the train’s arrival. They had no reason to be leaving town, so I suspected they were waiting for someone to step off instead.

An announcement signalled the train’s arrival. As each cabin swept past, the platform trembled with a low rumble.

Watching the same design flash by over and over felt strangely surreal, like staring at a moving image that never actually changed.

The powerful gust trailing behind the train brushed against my cheek, sweeping my clothes to one side.

An old couple stepped onto the platform. Ren began shuffling his feet restlessly, though Eli kept a steady hand on him.

The elderly pair exchanged a few words with Ren. His replies were meek.

“Ren’s parents,” Sol stated quietly.

I nodded. Their resemblance was unmistakable.

The woman held onto Ren’s arm while the man smiled brightly beside him. Little by little, Ren’s shoulders seemed to loosen.

He had always been so physical and direct with affection. It felt strange realising he could still seem restrained around his own family.

After a few more exchanges, the group prepared to leave. Ren walked the pair out, maintaining his decorum the entire time.

We kept ourselves inconspicuous as they made for the exit. Eli eventually spotted us after a few glances around, but he pretended not to see us, subtly positioning himself between us and Ren’s line of sight.

Sol and I followed close behind as they left, lingering behind a pillar while we watched Ren wave down a taxi.

Before getting into the taxi, the woman reached up to touch Ren’s face. It looked as though she wanted to pull him closer and kiss his cheek, but she stopped herself halfway.

He showed no visible reaction to the gesture itself, though when she withdrew, he seemed faintly disappointed.

Eli spoke softly with him as they watched the taxi drive off, occasionally patting his back.

Ren lowered his head and sighed, looking as though he were trapped in some hopeless situation.

“Ren.” Sol stepped out from behind the pillar and marched toward him. I followed behind. He turned to look at us, staring without blinking, showing neither surprise nor displeasure.

Sol stopped. He looked Ren in the eyes, saying nothing for a moment.

“We should get going. Vera’s funeral.”

As the four of us trudged along together, Ren eventually asked why we had come.

My partner jabbed a thumb toward Eli. “He told me to.”

Ren lingered on Sol’s words for a moment before quietly mumbling his thanks.