I sat without a word, pulling the chair across the hardwood floor with a screech that made Ellie wince.
Cam stood at the stove, flipping grilled cheese sandwiches like a practiced line cook. The rich scent of butter and toasted bread filled the air, mingling with the sweet-acidic aroma of tomato soup. My stomach growled traitorously.
When Cam approached with the serving platter, I took the spatula from her hand before she could serve me. Our fingers brushed for half a second. I kept my face blank as stone.
The soup ladle clinked against the side of my bowl. I focused on the ripples spreading across the surface of the red liquid, refusing to look at any of them.
"Sabine," Kara began, her voice carrying that authoritative tone that usually commanded attention.
I took a bite of my sandwich. The cheese stretched between my teeth and the bread, but I might as well have been eating cardboard. I chewed methodically, eyes fixed on my plate.
Silverware scraped against ceramic. Someone cleared their throat. I heard Ellie shift in her chair, the wood creaking beneath her.
I put my spoon down, looked up at Kara with eyes I made sure held nothing, then resumed eating.
The silence stretched like an overtightened wire. I could feel it vibrating with tension, ready to snap.
"We need to discuss this," Kara said finally. Her fingers tapped once against the tabletop, betraying her frustration.
I took another bite. Chewed. Swallowed.
"This isn't sustainable," Ellie whispered, her voice small and hurt. As if she were the wounded party here.
I gave them nothing. Not a word. Not a glance. Not even a change in my breathing pattern. They had taken enough from me already.
The pressure built with each passing minute. Kara's jaw tightened, her usual composure beginning to crack. Cam sat unnaturally still, only the muscle jumping in her cheek revealing her discomfort. Ellie fidgeted with her napkin, folding and unfolding it with nervous fingers.
I remained ice. Untouchable. Unmovable. Silent as the grave they'd dug for themselves.
The kitchen door swung open. Alex strolled in, pulling her dark hair free of its bun. She grabbed a bowl and spoon without looking at any of us.
"Sorry I'm late. Had to finish that perimeter check." She ladled soup, glanced up, and froze. Her eyes darted from face to face before landing on me. "What's going on?"
Kara cleared her throat. "Sabine found the surveillance equipment."
Alex's spoon clinked against her bowl as she set it down. She looked at me, brows drawn together in confusion, then at Kara, then back to me. The confusion in her eyes shifted to something worse: dismissal.
She shrugged. "So?"
My blood turned to ice, then fire.
"What did you expect?" Alex continued, reaching for a sandwich. "This is protective custody, not a vacation rental."
The casual way she said it. The slight eye roll. The absolute conviction that I was being unreasonable.
Something inside me snapped.
My spoon clattered against my plate. The sound rang through the kitchen like a gunshot. I pushed back from the table, chair legs scraping across hardwood. The others flinched at the noise.
I stood, hands flat on the table, leaning forward. My heart hammered against my ribs. Heat crawled up my neck and spread across my face. Three pairs of eyes widened in alarm.
Alex just looked annoyed, sandwich halfway to her mouth.
I opened my mouth and the volcano erupted.
I looked at Alex, my hands shaking against the table. My voice came out low and brittle.
"You don't see why I'm upset? Standard protocol?" The words hissed through my clenched teeth. "You've been watching me. In my bedroom. In the bathroom."
