Lara’s POV
Sunlight spilt over the courtyard, breaking into uneven patches across the grass. The air hung thick with jasmine, its sweetness nearly suffocating. Damp earth clung to the breeze, the scent stirring something restless inside me.
Elsa paced, steps sharp, tension snapping off her like frayed wire. I watched, unbothered, fingers curled around my glass. (PS: Elsa is Diane, sorry for the confusion.)
The ice rattled in my glass when I lifted it, liquid sloshing just enough to catch the light. Slow sip. Heat burned down my throat, lingered, and settled. Across from me, Elsa glared at nothing in particular, arms locked tight against her ribs like she was holding something in—or holding something back.
“You’re too relaxed.” A sharp breath. Her fingers curled deeper into her sleeves.
