Ayla's POV
I noticed the way her fingers tightened slightly around her glass. Her eyes softened for just a fraction of a second, a fleeting glimpse of something I had rarely seen—more human than controlled, more open than guarded. It was different from the Elena I knew, the one who wore precision like armor.
"Ayla," she began again, slower this time, her voice low and measured, as if she were testing the words before letting them fall. "There are things I…"
She paused, eyes dropping to her hands for a moment before flicking back to mine. The weight behind that glance made my chest tighten. My breath caught, trapped between anticipation and hesitation.
"I… sometimes I wish…" Her words faltered, breaking off as her jaw tightened. Her shoulders straightened, a subtle switch flipping, and the fragile vulnerability vanished almost instantly. "I mean, what I'm trying to say is… good work today. You handled everything perfectly."
