The instant Iris Walker met Dylan Brooks’ gaze, her entire body shuddered violently, as though an unseen force had struck her head-on. It was not a dramatic reaction born of imagination, nor was it a conscious exaggeration meant to draw sympathy. Instead, it was a purely instinctive response—one that came from the most primitive corner of her nervous system, where fear was recognized long before reason could intervene.
Her delicate frame stiffened in place, muscles locking one after another. Her legs began to tremble uncontrollably, shaking in a frantic, uneven rhythm, like strings on a shattered instrument being plucked without order or mercy. Each tremor traveled upward from her calves, through her knees, and into her spine, leaving her struggling to maintain even the most basic posture
