It was good to be back at Skyhold. Varric was relaxing in the Herald's Rest, cleaning Bianca and enjoying a pretty decent mug of ale. It seemed like he'd never be able to get all the sand out of his crossbow after their time in the Western Approach (he didn't even want to think about his boots). After a solid hour though, she was looking about as good as new. He sighed in satisfaction, glancing up to see Cullen enter and scan the room as though looking for someone. Eyes landing on Varric, he made his way over.

"Hey there, Curly," Varric said easily. "Need something?"

"Hello, Varric," Cullen nodded a greeting. "Have you seen the Inquisitor since you got back?"

"No. Did you forget to tell her something when you met earlier?"

"Pardon?" The Commander blinked.

"Last time I saw Stormcloud, she was running off in response to that message you sent," the dwarf shrugged.

"Varric-" Cullen's tone was uneasy and the rogue looked at him sharply. "I never sent a message."

"Andraste's ass!" Varric checked Bianca's readiness and grabbed his coat off the chair, shrugging it on as he headed for the door. Cullen stayed right on his heels.

"Who delivered the message?"

"One of the Inquisition runners."

"Would you recognize them?"

"They all kind of look alike, but I think so."

The two of them stormed into the barracks and checked with each of the runners currently on call. None of them admitted to delivering a message, and Varric confirmed they didn't quite fit what he remembered. There were a couple messengers out on assignment, but that didn't help them right then. Walking out, the pair was only slightly calmer than when they entered.

"Maybe we're over-thinking this, Curly," Varric attempted. "It could be a simple misunderstanding. Stormcloud is probably up on the ramparts watching us make fools of ourselves."

"I don't think so."

Cullen's voice was grim and Varric followed his eyes to where some of Leliana's ravens were congregating beside a group of barrels in the shade of a storage shed. Further investigation revealed a semi-fresh corpse slumped out of sight. Varric's heart sank and he met Cullen's eyes with a nod. It was the girl who'd delivered the message – and there was an arrow pierced cleanly through her eye.

"Dammit!" Cullen snarled, slamming his fist against the shed with such force that Varric heard the wood crack. "Inform Leliana and the rest with this, but don't let word spread. I'll meet you all in the War Room."

The dwarf watched him stalk off in the direction of his office before taking a deep breath and setting out on his task. This was not going to be easy… especially telling Iron Bull and Dorian. They were there when Faydren got the message too. And all three of them had missed it.

Cullen strode into the War Room, eyes taking in the concerned faces surrounding the table. This was the sort of thing nobody expected to happen, least of all right under their noses. Vivienne was in Orlais dealing with some nobles; Solas was researching Elven artifacts in the Dales; Sera was taking care of some Red Jenny business in Denerim; and Blackwall was on a recruiting run. The rest of them were there in that room, wondering what they were going to do.

"Whoever planned this knew how not to leave tracks," Leliana was frustrated. "I've been able to recover nothing past your initial findings. Killing the messenger cut off our one line of questioning."

"Did any of you see the message? Maybe where it told her to go?" Josephine was trying to sound hopeful. Iron Bull, Dorian, and Varric all shook their heads.

"You are a trained spy, are you not, Bull? And nothing raised your suspicions?" Cassandra's tone was accusing.

"Sorry if I was distracted by the Tevinter whining in my ear about all the sand in his mustache," the Qunari growled.

"Me?! You were the one raving like a madman about that dragon!" Dorian snapped.

"Now is not the time!"

Cullen brought his hand down on the table with a resounding smack, cutting off any further bickering as they all grew ashamed. They knew he was right. Reaching carefully into his vest, he seemed to hesitate for a moment.

"I have a way to find her."

Around the table, expressions ranged from shock to disgust as he brought out a small, elaborate glass vial filled with a deep crimson liquid. Even he grew uncomfortable holding it, the blood's warmth permeating his glove.

"A phylactery?" Dorian said acidly.

"I know you used to be a Templar, Cullen, but isn't that taking things a bit far?" Bull admonished.

"If you did not trust the Inquisitor-" Cassandra began to speak.

"She asked me to," Cullen cut them off. "The Inquisitor was concerned about eventualities such as this one. She requested that it be made soon after we reached Skyhold."

"Why weren't we told?" Leliana's eyes were searching.

"Lady Trevelyan knew that some of you may be unhappy with the decision. It was meant to be a last resort, so she kept it between us," Cullen sighed. He'd known this was going to be unpleasant.

"Will it work?" Varric was looking at the Commander intently.

"It should, yes," Cullen gave a firm nod.

"Then I don't care what it is. Let's go get our Inquisitor back."

The dwarf's bluntness put things back into perspective for the rest of the group. Looks were shared all around. Blame got them nowhere. They needed to work together on this. Leliana and Josephine would stay behind to collect information and call back the rest of the inner circle. If anything went wrong, they'd need a backup plan.

Cullen would take Cassandra, Cole, Varric, Bull, and Dorian with him to find the Inquisitor. The Seeker was fully capable of tracking mages herself, but thankfully nobody brought that fact up. He would likely go crazy if asked to remain behind. Even now, his throat was dry and his chest was twisting itself into knots.

They agreed to meet at the gates in ten minutes as everyone prepared. The room emptied except for Cullen, who was staring down at the vial in his hand. He focused, trying to calm his mind and his breathing.

She was still alive. The blood in the phylactery remained warm and glowing. If they'd just wanted her dead, the trap would have been unnecessary. If it was information they desired, she'd not yet given it. She was still alive.

Dammit. He clenched his eyes shut and grit his teeth.

The Inquisitor's companions walked in relative silence. The mood was tense and everyone kept to their own thoughts while trying not to imagine the worst. Iron Bull was no different in that respect, but he was capable of turning his mind elsewhere when needed. It was a skill he'd picked up quickly while dealing with life on Seheron - and one he was glad to have right now.

Though he could avoid thinking about future possibilities, the past still plagued him. That message... He should have known. When he thought back, there were signs that something wasn't right – a shift in the eyes of the messenger, Faydren running off to meet Cullen in the opposite direction from Skyhold. This whole thing could have been prevented, and it pissed him off.

From what Bull could tell, they were heading deeper into the Frostback Mountains. Cullen had been pushing at a hard but steady pace, leading from the front with phylactery in hand. It was obvious that he wanted to go faster, but as a commander he knew that they needed to keep up their strength in case they ran into resistance recovering Faydren.

The others were as reluctant to make stops as the Templar, pushing on without complaint even when the wind bit through their clothing like it was nothing. Not even Dorian said a word about the cold, though Bull could see the man's teeth chattering. They were forced to halt in a cave once by blizzard conditions, and the group tried to sleep as best they could for a few hours before pressing on.

It was nearly a full day's travel before they reached a valley almost completely obscured by mist. If Cullen hadn't been using the magical blood, they may not have even seen it from the mountain path above. It was surprisingly warm on the valley floor and a thick fog clung to the ground. Their pace quickened as though everyone knew they had to be getting close.

The shadowy form of a ruin materialized through the mists, stark and imposing as it loomed overhead. They tread carefully across the stone, steps echoing in the emptiness. Bull saw Cullen give a sharp nod - Faydren was definitely here somewhere. All of them grew uneasy. If that was true, where were her captors? Either they didn't expect the Inquisition to be able to find her, or it was a trap and the enemies were waiting for an opportune moment...

Iron Bull looked around suspiciously. There was only one doorway in and out of the main structure and it led to a narrow hallway. If the enemy locked down that exit, nobody would get out alive. Without knowing the size of the attacking force, he couldn't judge how many of them were needed to hold the door. Bull locked eyes with the Commander, who had recognized the issue as well - only one person should go inside to search.

"Go on, Cullen. Find her. We'll keep your exit clear," Bull urged. The others nodded in agreement and took up defensive positions.

Gratitude filled the man's brown eyes and he rushed into the open doorway, sword in one hand and phylactery in the other. The hallways were close enough quarters to prevent a full ambush, and if the numbers became too much he could fall back to them at the entrance. Bull readied his greataxe. This whole situation was extremely risky, but they had come for the Inquisitor. And they would not be leaving without her.

Cullen knew he was getting close now. As distasteful as they may be, phylacteries served their purpose well. The halls were mostly dark except for moonlight streaming in the occasional window and the bright red glow in his hand. He walked with sword drawn, blood glistening on the blade from the one pair of guards he'd encountered.

A heavy wooden door with bars in the window came up on his right. This was the one. He put the phylactery away. Cautiously, Cullen swung the door open and stepped in. The cell held a single occupant. His breath caught when he saw her, and the blade nearly slipped from his hand.

Faydren was stretched to full length by shackles anchoring her wrists and ankles to opposite ends of an upright wooden structure. Her head was down, eyes closed and chin resting on her chest. Moonlight filtered in through a single window, playing softly across exposed skin as she hung there in nothing but tattered smallclothes. A light sheen of sweat coated her body even in the chill air, and each breath created a puff of moisture in the dark.

Cullen tried not to stare, but his eyes were drawn to the soft curves of her figure. Then a pang went through his chest as he noticed something else… scars. They shone pale against her olive skin, a tapestry of pain woven across her entire torso - the smooth slashes from blades, the slight puckers from arrows, the unnatural stretching on her left shoulder from a severe burn. He'd assumed the scar across her face was from Ostwick, but he never imagined her armor hid so many more.

"Inquisitor?" he breathed. She didn't stir.

"Faydren..." he spoke slightly louder and moved close to her, reaching out a gentle hand to lift her chin.

Faydren's eyes fluttered open, pools of liquid silver as they met his. It was strange to see no hint of violet touching them at all. The shackles must have been made for mages then. She would have been completely at their mercy all this time. The thought sickened him.

"Cullen?" She murmured groggily. Her eyes went wide as she realized it really was him. "No, you have to get out. It's a trap. I heard them talking, and-"

"It's alright. We thought as much."

Cullen spoke calmly and began trying to unlock her restraints with a set of keys he'd snagged along the way. He released the ankles first, then the wrists. As her arms came free, Faydren's knees buckled and she fell against him. His hands came up instinctively, dropping the sword and resting firmly on her hips to provide support.

The ex-Templar's heart flipped. She was so close. Even with his gloves on, he could somehow feel the softness of her bare skin under his fingers – and the cold. Her hair brushed against his chin. It smelled damp and musty, yet strangely nice. Cullen swallowed hard. He shouldn't let himself get so distracted, but Maker it felt nice just to hold her. Faydren moved to look up at him and he felt the heat radiating from her forehead.

"You're burning up," concern filled his voice. It shouldn't be surprising considering the temperature and her current amount of clothing.

"It's my own fault..." She pushed away from him with bitter tears in her eyes, and he released her reluctantly. "I shouldn't have been fooled so easily. Now you're all here in danger because of-"

The sound of a small explosion echoed down the hallway, along with shouting and clashing metal. It seemed their enemy had finally shown up.

"We can discuss it later," Cullen said firmly. The man wanted nothing more than to comfort her, but they'd run out of time. He watched with sadness as she built back up the walls around her emotions.

"Right. Do you still have the keys?" The mage held out a hand, her demeanor now calm and focused. "I think I know where they put my things."

Faydren felt better once her armor was back on, though a chill still stuck with her. She stayed close on Cullen's heels as he navigated the twists and turns of the hallways. Sword and shield were both out and ready, a look of steely determination on his face. Worry nagged at the back of her mind knowing he was in danger, but she couldn't deny that his presence at her side was comforting.

The two turned a corner and he immediately flattened against the wall, throwing an arm out to do the same to her as arrows whizzed down the passage. They ran the rest of the way out into the large courtyard littered with crumbling stone where their friends were fighting a losing battle.

Red Templars were attacking in force - archers lined a second floor balcony while knights swarmed at ground level. The Inquisition fighters were holding the door, but only barely. Most had minor injuries already and were fatigued by the constant barrage of enemies. Relief showed plainly on their faces when they saw her, though it was short-lived.

"Good to see you, Stormcloud!" Varric shouted in between firing bolts, giving her a strained smile. "Our rescue plan ran into a bit of a snag."

Their leader stood behind the archers, his eyes glowing red. When he spotted Faydren enter, his face broke into a cruel grin and he held up a hand. The corrupted Templars immediately stopped their attack.

"Our honored guest has arrived, men! Now there's no need to hold back," he smirked.

"What do you mean? What was the point of this?" Faydren snarled at him. "You could have killed me at any time to please Corypheus!"

The man's laugh rang through the courtyard, bouncing harshly off the stone. She cringed.

"The Elder One has his own plans. I'm doing this for my pleasure," his eyes were wild and filled with loathing. "I want to make you suffer. You – the only mage who escaped us at Ostwick!"

Faydren froze as she stared at him in horror. Could it be? Was this the Templar that had prevented their escape at the Circle? The memory of that night surfaced, and his voice stayed with her still. It was him. He was the reason Darius was dead.

"Seranus!" She snarled with pure hatred, magic swirling around her as lightning began to strike the battlefield. Her companions watched in confused silence.

"You do remember!" That clearly pleased him. "Now watch closely as I take everything from you. Again. And then...? I may take pity on you and end your miserable existence."

Faydren had no intention of letting that happen. She looked around at all of her friends and nodded once. They understood and prepared themselves – it was time to clear a path. With a twirl of her staff, the mage sent a surge of chain lightning arcing among the soldiers blocking their path. With a hum, her fade shield fizzled into being. She heard Dorian's barrier go up on the rest of them behind her. Next she fade stepped toward the exit, freezing those in her path. Bull took the opportunity to charge into them at full bore, shattering or crushing the chilled enemies. Varric, Cole, and Dorian sprinted along the cleared path, keeping the archers too preoccupied with dodging to shoot. Cassandra and Cullen took up positions on either side, blocking blades that attempted to strike at the group and shield bashing any who got careless.

Using this strategy, they slowly pushed their way toward the gates. The sheer number of Templars was actually working in their favor since the knights didn't have enough room to maneuver properly. The gate was almost in sight and Faydren felt a glimmer of hope. They could make it!

She heard a metallic clinking sound and felt something catch on her armor before she was wrenched from her feet, landing flat on her back.

"Inquisitor!"

Cullen rushed toward her and used his shield to block the downward swing as she scrambled to her feet. Then the world descended into chaos. Faydren swung her spirit blade in wide arcs, occasionally casting more lightning and fade stepping away from sword slashes. She lost sight of the others in the sea of red. Fear gripped her heart, but she focused on keeping herself alive. They were all excellent fighters. They could take care of themselves.

The battle seemed endless, and Faydren's magic was beginning to falter. She managed to attack just enough to replenish her barrier and prevent any fatal blows. Yet with every enemy she killed, more arrived to take his place. Her breathing was ragged and blood ran down into her eyes from a large gash on her forehead.

"Hold!" Seranus' voice rang out once more, and the Templars slowly backed away from her. As they did, she saw that the ones surrounding her were nearly all that was left besides some archers. But if there were only this many, why hadn't the others overcome them by now? Eyes searching the battlefield, her thoughts were quickly answered. Time seemed to stand still, her mind registering only bits and pieces.

Iron Bull motionless on his side, a pool of blood growing around him.

Varric's hand resting limply on his crossbow.

Cassandra's Seeker tunic stained red.

Cole's hat on the ground with an arrow pierced through it.

Dorian's staff broken in two.

"Looks familiar, doesn't it?" A voice taunted, almost directly above her. "Then again, last time you weren't there anymore to see me crush the life out of your friends."

There was a strangled noise and Faydren's head snapped up to see Seranus holding Cullen by the throat, dangling him over the railing. The Inquisition Commander was covered in blood, arrows sticking out of his shoulder and his shield arm hanging limply at his side. His right hand was tugging on the arm at his throat, but he clearly had no strength left. Pained eyes met hers and he mouthed the word Run.

"Nobody is escaping me this time…"

With a malicious smirk, Seranus lifted a wicked-looking dagger and plunged it into Cullen's chest, punching through the armor before pulling it out again coated in red. Then he released his grip.

"CULLEN!" The scream was raw agony.

Faydren knew it wouldn't help, but all she could think was that something needed to break his fall. She began to sprint, but there was a sharp pain in her leg as an arrow embedded itself in her thigh. Yelping in pain, she tripped and fell to the ground. She kept her eyes shut, but couldn't block out the crash that echoed on the stone as Cullen hit the ground. When she opened them again he was just lying there, unmoving and eyes closed.

With a whimper, Faydren dragged herself over to him and got to her hands and knees. Tenderly, she brushed her fingers along his face and through his blood-stained blonde hair. This couldn't be happening. Not again. Not after all they had gone through already.

"Nononono," she murmured the word repeatedly. Please... I don't want to be alone again. Great tears fell freely from her eyes, some of them landing on Cullen's face as she leaned down and touched her forehead to his.

"I will admit, you made that more difficult than expected. I lost nearly all my men," Seranus sighed happily. "Now I only have to finish you off and I can rest easy knowing I did my duty as a Templar."

"No," Faydren spat, jaw clenched as she sat back on her heels to glare up at him. The tears kept flowing but her eyes held unbridled fury as she hissed the words. "I won't let you take them from me."

White tendrils of visible energy began to swirl around her and the Anchor crackled to life on her hand. Her hair floated in some nonexistent current as her eyes took on a golden luminescence. The Red Templars shifted uncomfortably while glowing energy spread along the ground.

"What is that magic?" Seranus sounded genuinely alarmed. "Kill her now!"

Arrows rained down, but any that struck her simply disintegrated into nothing – including the one already stuck in her leg. They watched the wounds on her forehead and thigh close and vanish with a sizzle. She rose slowly to her feet. The soldiers hesitated, stepping back.

Faydren threw her arms up with a primal cry as a wave of golden light flared from her body and swept across the battlefield. The knights flinched, but it had no effect on them. Relieved, they began to close in on the mage for the final blow. They didn't notice the Inquisition companions around them begin to stir.

Cullen felt a rush of warmth. Was he dead? He remembered feeling the dagger enter his chest, but now it felt fine. In fact, everything felt fine. His arm, his shoulder – he couldn't feel a single wound or arrow. His face was wet – were those tears? Faydren. Opening his eyes, he jolted to a sitting position. They were still in the courtyard. There were enemies around, but all of them were focused on something else. Or rather, someone.

Eyes widening in shock, Cullen spotted the Inquisitor – he'd never seen her look like that. She was radiating an ethereal golden light, her eyes glowing brightly. Hearing a grunt to his right, the ex-Templar turned to see Iron Bull getting to his feet and reaching for his greataxe. The Qunari was completely unharmed.

A crossbow bolt punched through the helmet of one of the enemy knights advancing on Faydren; there was screaming as flames erupted behind her; a shadowy figure moved along the edges, daggers flashing across throats; and Cassandra ran his way, hand extended to help him up.

"Impossible!" Screamed a voice above them. "Loose more arrows! Charge! Kill her, dammit!"

"Protect the Inquisitor!" Cullen shouted the order, springing into action.

He retrieved a sword and shield from the fallen nearby and began attacking the enemy backs turned to him. Dorian and Varric changed focus to take out the archers, who had left their cover when the fight seemed over. The Commander barely believed his own eyes as he watched arrows find their mark on him and his allies, only to crumble to dust and fade away with no wound to speak of.

Faydren didn't seem to notice any of it, blank gaze straight forward and unflinching. Her arms stretched out at her sides now as the swirling aura of light took the unmistakable shape of wings on her back. She rose from the ground slowly, levitating with an effortless grace until she was floating at balcony level with her focus locked on the fighting. Wave after wave of light swept out from her, giving renewed energy and healing to her companions below. Each time, the aura grew dimmer.

Finally, the archers were dead and Iron Bull was finishing off the last of the knights. The ground and air no longer hummed with energy. All of them stared at each other in confusion, happy to be alive but not sure what had just happened. Cullen looked to see Faydren still hovering, aura barely visible. Movement flashed behind her as Seranus jumped up and nocked an arrow, aiming at her back. The coward must have been playing dead.

"Look out!" Cullen couldn't tell if she had any power left to heal herself.

Faydren spun in a blur and a flash of light blazed from her left hand. With an angry gurgle, Seranus' torso fell to the ground... followed by his legs. Her spirit blade was at least twice its usual length before it disappeared.

The glow faded completely.

The Inquisitor's eyes slid closed, and she fell.

"Boss!"

Thankfully the Qunari was close enough to sprint and catch her before her body hit the flagstones below. Bull knelt down and placed her gently in an open space while the rest of them moved to join him. Cullen's eyes scanned the courtyard, now covered in blood and bodies in the mist. How had they survived this? He looked to Dorian, frowning.

"What was that? I should be dead. I saw the rest of you-" he hesitated on the word. "Fall. Yet we appear to be completely healed."

"I- don't know. I didn't think the Inquisitor knew any healing magic."

"If I remember correctly, Knight-Enchanters are able to learn a healing spell," Cassandra offered. "But it is meant for a small group. Three people at most. This should not be possible."

"Dorian!" Bull's voice was urgent and the group crowded in. Faydren was unconscious, face deathly pale and strained as he cradled her head. "I can't find any injuries, but she's not waking up. Also..."

His large hand gently lifted her left arm and Cullen winced. It looked charred. The fabric of her armor was burnt away except for a few tatters. The Anchor glowed and sparked angrily, luminous green cracks expanding out from it and up to her elbow. The edges of the cracks were blackened and heat radiated from them.

"We have to get her back to Skyhold immediately."

Cullen could hear the fear in Dorian's voice.

Faydren's companions sat quietly around a table in the tavern. By their request, the other patrons had been asked to leave for the evening. Varric absentmindedly polished Bianca as his eyes wandered over the other faces. They looked about how he felt. His brow furrowed. That was some trick Stormcloud pulled...

The door opened and all eyes turned as Dorian walked in, brushing droplets of water from his shoulders. Appropriately, it had been dark and rainy since they got back. The dwarf watched Cullen nearly fall out of his chair in his haste to get up.

"What do they think is wrong, Dorian?" The ex-Templar's voice trembled a bit.

"They have no idea," Dorian sounded perturbed. "I confirmed with Commander Helaine that Faydren was indeed taught Resurgence. Apparently most recruits can only fully cast it after years of training, and the Inquisitor had barely made any progress with it at all. Helaine also agreed that it should not have been possible to cast it on such a grand scale."

"What exactly do you mean by 'grand scale'?" Cassandra queried.

"It's like this... Every time a mage casts a spell it requires a mixture of skill, willpower, and energy to interact with the Fade and bring forth the desired effect," the Tevinter coaxed forth a flame in his hand. "In this case, it was a call for help. She requested aid from the spirits capable of healing and created a gateway for them to pass through."

"That sounds dangerous," Iron Bull grumbled.

"Normally, no. Those spirits rarely have any higher intelligence and they've no desire to stay in our world for long. However, Faydren was able to call so many and open the gate so wide that her body nearly broke under the strain," dropping into a chair heavily, Dorian rubbed his eyes in frustration.

"But if that shouldn't be possible, how..." The question hung in the air as Cullen retook his seat also.

"We think it was the Anchor. It gives her a nearly direct link to the Fade, so there's less energy needed to make the call and open the gate," he sighed. "We also think that's why the mark spread. If you stretch something too far, the original shape may be altered. I'll compare notes with Solas when he gets back."

"And when do they think she'll wake up?" There was hope in Curly's voice.

"I... there's no guarantee that she'll wake up at all," Dorian's voice broke. There was a moment of stunned silence.

"What?!" Cullen's hand slammed down on the table. The rest of the group looked sick.

"We have no idea the extent of the damage. It is possible that she broke herself completely," the dark-haired man was trying valiantly to keep his composure.

"Maker's breath, what was she thinking... Without her, the Inquisition cannot ensure victory against the Elder One. We gave her the chance to save herself and escape. She should have taken it!"

"Come on, Curly... You know she couldn't do that. It's not her nature," Varric chastened, speaking for the first time.

"The world is at stake!" The pain on that man's face had nothing to do with the world.

"We are her world!" Varric felt himself getting angry. "Without us, that girl has nothing and no one!"

"I won't let him take them this time. I won't be alone again," Cole spoke softly. They all knew whose thoughts he was repeating and the fire went out of the argument.

"Sometimes sacrifices must be made," the Commander said the words without conviction.

"And just how successful do you think a broken Inquisitor would be against Corypheus?" The Qunari eyed Cullen pointedly.

"I- you're probably right... I just feel so..."

"Guilty?" Cassandra finished for him. "We all do. If she dies, the knowledge that it was for our sake is a heavy burden. But she's not dead yet."

"I hate just sitting here waiting."

"Go to her, Cullen. I think your presence would be comforting," Dorian put a hand on the blonde man's shoulder.

"Really?"

"Yes."

"...Alright," Cullen got to his feet and left.

"Heh, comforting for which one?" Varric lifted an eyebrow at the Tevinter.

"Mmmm, both."

"Not gonna tell him why, Sparkler?"

"I believe the Commander needs to find out for himself. Maybe the thought of losing her will be enough to get him to realize..." Dorian's eyes remained on the door. "If he doesn't tell her soon, he may never get the chance. And those two need each other."

Nobody was willing to speak the fact that it may already be too late.