**SASHA**
The first sign that something has shifted is not a confrontation or a demand, but a tone, because voices carry differently when people believe they are being careful rather than quiet. I hear it in the corridor outside my room as I finish braiding my hair, the low murmur that dips when footsteps approach and resumes a breath later, softer and more deliberate than before. It does not feel hostile, exactly, but it feels measured, and that unsettles me more than outright suspicion ever did.
I take a steadying breath and stand, checking my balance the way I have learned to do since the heat broke, because my body is still recalibrating even when my mind wants to sprint ahead. The bond hums steady beneath my ribs, present without pressure, and I use that steadiness to ground myself
