Elias looked at his reflection in the rye. He saw a man who had become a statue to avoid the sting of the wind. He realized then that being "cold as ice" wasn't a defense—it was a slow way to disappear.
"Let’s go," he said. "Before the freeze sets in for good." Cold as Ice
"They walked away and kept moving," she countered, sliding a hand-drawn map across the sticky mahogany bar. "You walked away and stopped. You’ve been standing in the same snowbank ever since." Elias looked at his reflection in the rye
The neon sign outside "The Deep Freeze" flickered, casting a rhythmic blue glow over the frost-patterned window. Inside, Elias sat at the far end of the bar, his hands wrapped around a glass of rye that he hadn’t touched. He wasn't there for the drink; he was there for the silence. "Let’s go," he said