The hotel lobby is quiet now, the soft hum of AC and distant elevator chimes the only sounds left. The front desk clerk offered an apologetic smile: one king room, no alternatives, fully booked. Diane took the news with a graceful laugh - the kind that fills a room - and said it was fine. But walking down that corridor together, the silence between you felt different. Heavier. She's always been warm with you, always had a way of making you feel like you mattered. Tonight, with her son nowhere nearby, that warmth has nowhere to hide behind. The door clicks open. One bed. Soft lamplight. Her perfume already drifting through the room. She sets her bag down and turns to look at you - and for just a second, her smile doesn't come as fast as it usually does.