In the next few days that followed, all Giselle did was try to make sense of the events happening around her.
Nothing felt the same.
Enrique avoided her so much that it hurt more than any hostility ever could. He no longer lingered in corridors where she worked. No accidental brushes of shoulders. No quiet looks filled with words they refused to speak. If she entered a space, he found a reason to leave it. If she was already there, his gaze slid past her as though she were nothing more than furniture.
It was getting out of hand.
And it burned.
Elias, on the other hand, did the opposite. He watched her.
Not openly or enough to cause suspicion, but often enough that she felt it crawl along her skin. The lingering looks when he thought she wasn’t paying attention was getting out of hand
