Silence fell with a thud after Alex said it. For a heartbeat the corridor held its breath; even Lisa's whimpering paused. Then Owen tried to restart the scene.
“She is my—"
“Not anymore," Alex said, tone level. “And even if she were, respect isn't a courtesy you earn."
Mr. Knight added, “Counsel has notified your father's office. Direct questions to me." The fight deflated. A shout from the doorway—“She's fading!"—pulled Owen away toward the woman whose distress always made him the hero of his own film.
Alex didn't watch him go. He crouched in front of Sarah. “May I?" he asked, nodding to her forearm.
She let him work. He dampened a clean napkin, wiped away blood, and laid neat adhesive strips. The sting was small, the steadiness not. “You don't have to play hero," she said.
“I like
