Emilia's hidden strength
Although the safe abode was quiet, it was far from serene. The silence was heavy, layered with meaning, like the pause before thunder breaks. Rain tapped steadily against the windows, a gentle rhythm that disguised the turmoil coiling inside Emilia’s chest. The world outside seemed unaware—streets glistening, distant traffic murmuring—but inside the room, something irreversible was taking shape.
She sat cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by chaos she had deliberately arranged. Papers were spread in widening circles around her: timetables marked with sharp annotations, intercepted messages printed and reprinted, security plans riddled with red ink, and maps creased from constant folding and unfolding. Anyone else might have seen disorder. Emilia saw structure.
