Seraphina's Point Of View
I watched Lydia. I mean, I really watched her. The girl didn't just walk out; she practically evaporated. One second she stood there, clutching that file like it was the last piece of driftwood in a shipwreck, and the next? Just a faint scent of expensive, desperate perfume lingered in the air as the heavy oak doors swung shut behind her.
She bolted so fast I half-expected to see a cartoon puff of smoke left behind in her wake.
Rose leaned over, her voice a low, amused hum that only I could hear. "Well. That was fast," she murmured. "I think she might have broken a land-speed record in those five-inch heels."
I shook my head, my lips twitching with a shadow of a smile I couldn't quite suppress. The absurdity of it all… the drama, the desperation, the sheer velocity of Lydia's exit, threatened to crack my professional veneer. "Fast doesn't even cover it, Rose," I whispered back. "I think she's currently trying to outrun her own shadow."
