Morgana remained motionless for several long seconds, the folder still clutched to her chest as if it were the only thing keeping her anchored to reality. The silence in the room seemed heavier than any shout she had exchanged with Damon minutes before.
Elizabeth was the first to move.
"You'll need time," she said, crossing her arms again. "Denial, anger, disgust… it all comes in waves. You don't need to answer anything now."
Morgana let out a short, humorless laugh.
"Time?" she looked up, her eyes gleaming dangerously. "If half of this is true… I don't have that luxury."
She opened the folder again, turning the pages more carefully now. Not like someone in shock, but like someone trained to observe. Dates. Repetitions. Patterns. Routes that coincided with "diplomatic" trips. Names crossed out, replaced by others.
"He always said certain shipments were 'too sensitive' for me," she murmured. "That I didn't need to know everything."
Elizabeth nodded slightly.
