Ayla's POV
The hallway felt different when we stepped back into it.
Quieter, but not empty. Never empty here.
I walked between them, the space around me careful and unspoken, a buffer that none of us acknowledged but all of us maintained, like we were each afraid of what would happen if it broke.
Eyes found us immediately. Some looked openly, others tried not to, and a few didn't bother pretending. Stares dug into my skin like cold pinpricks, the hunger of people wanting a story they hadn't earned. Whispers followed in our wake — low and quick, slipping into the cracks before I could close them.
I kept my eyes forward. One foot, then the next. The scrape of shoes on tile. Rhythm over everything else.
We turned the corner, and Ryker was there.
Waiting near the stairwell with the coil
