The recess was supposed to be ten minutes.
Under the fluorescent glare and the hush of polished floors, ten minutes stretched into something elastic and mean. Mariella stayed seated, her notes spread before her like armor. She flipped pages she no longer needed to read, hands steady out of sheer force of will.
Across the room, Sari paced by the window, sharp heels carving impatient rhythms into the marble. Matthew Elizalde lounged against a column as if the building had been constructed to frame him. Arms crossed. Smirk hereditary. Watching Sari unravel like it was free entertainment.
Paul stood a few paces behind Matthew.
Still. Remote. The kind of stillness that changed the air pressure.
Even without looking, Mariella knew exactly where Paul was. Her body had learned his presence ye
