STELLA
Corey’s eyes darted nervously between Tristan and me as we approached. The easygoing grin he usually wore was nowhere to be found, replaced instead by a forced smile that didn’t fool anyone. He cleared his throat, trying to muster confidence, but the way he shifted his weight from one foot to the other betrayed him.
“Tristan,” Corey began, his voice a little too enthusiastic, “it’s, uh… good to see you again.”
“Corey,” Tristan replied coolly, his tone polite but distant. He offered a curt nod, his gaze flicking briefly to Griselda before landing back on Corey.
Griselda, who had been holding Corey’s arm possessively, stepped forward with a saccharine smile. “Tristan,” she said smoothly, her tone light but laced with an edge, “what a surprise running into you here.”
I caught the
