I watched her walk away, joining Belle at the door while Jordan continued his dramatic floor performance. The training room felt too quiet suddenly, the hum of deactivated equipment the only sound besides our collective breathing.
"You coming?" Belle called from the doorway.
"Yeah. Give me a minute."
She raised an eyebrow but didn't push, disappearing into the hallway with Naomi in tow. Their voices faded as they headed toward the elevators, leaving me alone with Jordan's starfish impression and my own racing thoughts.
Friday felt impossibly close.
A C-rank gate with abnormal readings. Two teams that hated each other forced into cooperation. Blair Davenport's personal vendetta against my existence. Hikaru recovering from nearly bleeding out in our bathroom. Cassandra's watchful presence somewhere in the background, cataloging everything I did for reasons I couldn't fully predict.
