Samira's POV
The room buzzed with a low, electric hum of conversation, the music steady enough to vibrate through the soles of my shoes. Lights flickered rhythmically over the crowd, bright enough to blur the edges of faces without obscuring the people behind them. Students began to gravitate toward the center of the living room, forming a loose, expectant circle. I stayed near the edge of the cushions, my hands folded neatly in my lap, forcing my smile to remain light and unburdened.
Amanda leaned toward me, her eyes scanning my face with surgical precision. "You look like you are bracing for a car crash, Sam. You are tense."
"I am perfectly fine." I said, keeping my voice as even as a flatline. I could feel the sharp tightness in my chest despite my best efforts to breathe through it.
