LILA
Claire was too quiet.
I had learned to recognize the difference over the years. There was her normal, thinking quiet, where her mind was clearly working through something complex. Then there was this version, where her stillness felt weighted, like she was bracing against a conclusion she did not want to reach.
That was the version sitting across from me now.
She had not spoken since I mentioned bond marks, and the silence stretched long enough that pretending nothing was happening would only make it worse.
"You're not asking questions," I said.
"I'm listening," she replied. "There's a difference."
There was, and it made the tension in the room feel sharper.
I leaned back against the counter, crossing my arms more to steady myself than out of defensiveness. E
