The clatter of the ceramic cup against the saucer was too loud. Liam focused on the sound, on the faint chip on the rim, on anything but the woman sitting across from him. The air in the quiet café was thick with the ghosts of a thousand conversations, but theirs had died before it even began.Elara stirred her latte, the cinnamon dust dissolving into the foam, a small, brown vortex mirroring the storm in her chest. This was it. The final, civilized exchange. A transaction to end a five-year epic. His keys, a small brass key with a guitar pick