Her phone was in her lap. She was sipping her drink and gazing out the opposite window, as if she were on a private meditation retreat. Daniel stared at her, waiting for a flicker of recognition. For a glance. For some hint that she might acknowledge him. Nothing.
He blinked. Something dark and heavy pressed behind his ribs. It wasn’t just about peace anymore—it was about being invisible. About being disregarded. Again. He swallowed hard and turned around. His breath was shallow. He ran a hand across his jaw. How many times had he let things slide in the name of politeness?