Mason Graves
Serena reentered the dining hall, looking like she’d just stepped out of some quiet storm. Her movements were measured, like she was forcing herself to maintain control. Her face, though composed, betrayed something I didn’t miss. Her eyes were glassy, and there was an unmistakable tightness around her jaw.
I was already sitting at the table, watching her closely. There was no point pretending I hadn’t noticed. The way she held herself, the way her fingers grazed the edge of her phone before she tucked it into her pocket—there was a shift in her. Something I couldn’t ignore.
“Were you crying?” The question came out before I could stop it. I wasn’t about to let this go, not when I knew her so well, even with all her secrets. The lines of her face softened for a fraction of a
