“Selena...” Zara’s voice was low, laced with a warning.
Selena turned slowly, her eyes sharp, glittering like jagged glass. “What?” she spat. “Do you think I’ll apologize for doing what I must to survive? You’re all too blind to see the truth of this trial. It’s not about loyalty. It’s about strength.”
I stepped forward, my chest tight. “And betrayal is strength? Throwing us aside for a scrap of security is strength?”
She laughed—a bitter, hollow sound. “Spare me your righteous speeches, MaryJane. I’ve done what you’re all too weak to do. I’ll see the end of this trial while you cling to your misplaced trust.”
No one responded. Words felt meaningless against the cold reality of her choice. Zara tightened her grip on her sword, but after a long, tense moment, she let it drop to her side
