The weight of the night's events pressed heavily on Elara's chest. She stood there, her fists clenched, as chaos unfolded around her. Helena barked orders, Felix frantically coordinated with the ambulance, and Gerald lay weak but conscious on the floor. Yet, all Elara could focus on was the figure of Amara the woman she loved casually leaning against Eirik like he was some sort of knight in tarnished armor.
Her violet eyes were void of emotion, her lips curved in a faint, mocking smirk that Elara wanted to erase. This wasn't the Amara she knew.
This wasn't her Amara.
The realization stung like ice down her spine. Amara, the one who had held her when she felt weak, who had teased her with sarcastic quips until she smiled, was gone. And in her place was this… stranger.
Elara's voice broke the tense air like a whip. "Amara. Outside. Now."
Amara arched a single eyebrow, amused. "Oh? Giving me orders now? How bold of you, Elara."