(Michelle Lui's POV)
Morning light seeped gently into the suite, warm and golden, like the world was trying to apologize for how dramatic yesterday had been.
I sat at the small table by the window, stirring my tea for no reason. My hand looked still, but inside, my chest felt like it was vibrating — full but hollow at the same time.
Two days left in Country A.
Two days before we all go home and pretend everything went normally.
But the truth?
Nothing felt normal now.
Not after yesterday.
Not after the three breaks.
Kate emerged from the bathroom wearing her soft café-chic outfit: beige cardigan, cream skirt, a little ribbon in her hair. She looked at me, then at my untouched tea.
"You're overthinking," she diagnosed immediately.
"I'm meditating," I lied.
She snorted. "You're meditating with anxiety."
"…maybe."
Kate sat across from me and reached for my hand, squeezing gently.
"I'll stick with you today," she said softly. "All day."
My chest loosened a little.
