DORIAN
“I asked what you were doing.
Hm? Can’t talk anymore princess?”
She didn’t even blink.
Just sat there—cross-legged, cool, folder still half-open like she wasn’t holding the beginning of the end in her lap.
Her eyes glared up once. Barely. Just enough to clock me standing in the hallway like I’d been waiting for her to find it.
Maybe I had.
But she didn’t scramble. Didn’t stammer or hide the file like she was caught mid-theft.
She just refolded the card.
Like she already knew what it said would matter more than anything I was about to.
“You were in the closet?” I asked.
“Relax,” she said. “I didn’t realize I needed clearance to clean MY house.”
The sarcasm was familiar, but her tone? Off.
She sounded calm.
The kind of calm that only meant one thing—she wasn’t confused.
