Maria.
"Who?" she asked, blinking at me, a puzzled crease forming between her brows, as if I had suddenly begun speaking a language she'd never heard in her life.
Her face was a blank canvas, wide-eyed, confused, innocent, the kind of expression someone wore when they wanted you to believe they had absolutely no idea what you were talking about.
But I wasn't buying it.
"The guy who just walked down the hallway," I said slowly, deliberately, my voice steady even though my heart was thudding with suspicion. "I saw him talking to you."
I didn't look away and ensured I didn't shift my stance, didn't soften my voice. Instead, I held her gaze as tightly as I could, studying her, trying to memorize every flicker across her face, any twitch of the eye, any tightening of her jaw, any sign that might betray more than she wanted me to know.
For the briefest moment, there was stillness.
