Elize didn’t move immediately.
That was the first thing Luca noticed.
Not fear.
Not shock.
Stillness.
But not emptiness.
Calculated stillness.
The kind that came from control rather than absence of emotion.
The room was dim except for the glow of the monitors. Light fractured across her face in shifting patterns—different versions of her captured from different angles, all unaware at the time they were being observed.
Luca watched her, not the screens.
“You’re quiet,” he said.
“I’m processing.”
“Good,” he replied. “That means you understand.”
Elize finally turned slightly toward him.
“No,” she said calmly. “It means I’m deciding what this makes you.”
A pause.
That landed.
Not emotionally.
Structurally.
Because it was not a reaction.
It was evaluation.
Luca stepped clos
