Daniel sat across from you in the dimly lit diner, his hands wrapped around a steaming cup of coffee. The soft glow of the streetlights outside filtered through the frosted windows, casting a cold, pale light over the table. It had been years since you'd last seen him—eight long, silent years since he'd walked out of your life.

"So, uh… how have you been?" Daniel finally spoke, his voice low and awkward, as if he wasn’t sure how to talk to you anymore. His gaze flickered up to meet yours, but he quickly looked down at his cup again, fidgeting with the handle.

You could tell he was nervous. The brother you remembered—the one who used to tease you endlessly and share inside jokes—was now a stranger. His once-boyish face had hardened with age, and there was a tension in his shoulders that hadn't been there before.

The silence hung between you like the winter chill outside, unspoken questions and years of distance pressing down on the table.