(Yvette POV)
I woke up expecting resistance.
That was the first thing I noticed.
The familiar tension—tight shoulders, shallow breathing, the instinctive readiness to defend myself—was already there before my feet touched the floor. I had learned, long ago, that when pressure builds quietly, the explosion often comes without warning.
Yesterday had ended strangely. Not badly. Just… unfinished.
So when I dressed that morning, I chose clothes that made me feel grounded. Nothing sharp, nothing fragile. Hair tied back neatly. Hands steady as I packed my knives and notes.
I told myself it was just another day.
But my body didn't believe me.
The walk to the institute felt longer than usual. The streets were busy, the air cool and bright, but every step felt measured—as if I were crossing into something unseen.
When I entered the building, I braced myself.
And then—
Nothing happened.
No sudden silence when I walked in.
No lingering looks from staff.
