(Michelle Lui's POV)
The door slammed behind Lara so hard the glass beakers on the side counter rattled.
For a few seconds — maybe five, maybe fifty — nobody moved.
Nobody breathed.
Just the ringing silence she left in her wake.
A silence thick with shock.
A silence that settled on my skin like cold ash.
I stared at the space where she'd been standing, where her words still echoed inside my skull. Everything she'd thrown at me — every accusation, every hurt, every grief — they clung to my ribs, scraping.
My hands were still shaking.
Steven said my name once.
"Michelle."
Soft.
Quiet.
So careful it almost shattered me more.
I wiped my eyes quickly and forced a tiny exhale. "I'm okay."
I wasn't.
And he knew it.
His eyes softened in that way that meant he didn't believe a single word, but he didn't push. He didn't touch me. He didn't crowd me. He just stayed — a silent anchor in a storm I hadn't seen coming.
Around us, the class remained frozen.
