Elara put the cigarette back between her lips and looked at Christina. Her eyes narrowed, and for a second, her gaze went soft and dreamy. It was as if she were already drunk or picturing a movie playing inside her head.
"Lyra was originally..."
The words were muffled by the filter between her teeth. Christina leaned in and asked,
"What?"
...but Elara went silent. The gray ash on her cigarette grew long. Before it could crumble onto the polished bar, she reached for a napkin and tapped the ash onto it with a steady hand.
"This is something I never thought I'd see," Christina said, shaking her head. "The great Director Elara heartbroken over a failed romance."
"When did I ever..." Elara started, her voice defensive.
Even though her face was thin and her eyes were hollow from stress, she insisted on keeping up her mask until the very end. Christina didn't find it annoying; she just looked at Elara with pity.
