“She’s the marker,” I say.
The words land with finality, reshaping the room in an instant.
Lorens goes completely still. “No.”
I do not look at him.
“You don’t get to say no,” Vihl says, his tone almost conversational.
“This is not a valid transfer,” Lorens presses. “You cannot just?—”
“I can,” I say, and the interruption ends the rest of his sentence before it begins.
The shift is complete now, and everyone in the room recognizes it, whether they admit it or not.
I step closer to her, closing the distance deliberately, watching how she responds to the change in proximity. Her breathing shifts slightly, just enough to register awareness, but her posture remains aligned, steady, and intentional.
“You’re calm,” I say.
“I’m focused,” she replies.
“That’s not the same thing.”
“It is when you’re deciding something that matters,” she says.
I let my gaze move across her face, noting the faint discoloration along one side, the kind of mark that hasn’t fully settled yet. I glance past her briefly, catching Lorens looking anywhere but at me, then return my attention to her.
“You understand what happens next?” I ask.
“Yes.”
“Then say that too.”
Her jaw tightens slightly before she answers, not out of fear, but out of recognition of what she is committing to.
“I leave with you,” she says. “Under your control.”
Vihl shifts behind me, quieter now. “That’s clean.”
“It’s direct,” I say.
I let a moment pass before pushing further.
“You don’t look scared,” I say.
“I’m not panicking,” she replies.
“That wasn’t the question.”
She meets my gaze fully now, and there is no attempt to avoid it.
“I know what I’m choosing,” she says.
I step closer, reducing the distance again, testing whether proximity changes anything.
“Do you,” I ask quietly, “or do you just know what you’re avoiding?”
The reaction is there, small but real, a flicker in her eyes that appears and disappears almost instantly.
