The room was too quiet.Not peaceful—never that.But tense.Like something had shifted and refused to settle back into place.Christiana sat on her bed, unmoving, her hands resting stiffly on her lap. Her eyes were dry now, but not because she felt nothing.It was because she felt too much.Too much anger.Too much humiliation.Too much truth.Across the room, Joy watched her.Carefully.Closely.There was no satisfaction on her face—only calculation.Because this version of Christiana?This colder, quieter version?Was far more useful.Veronica broke the silence first.“I don’t like this,” she said softly.Neither of them responded.Veronica stood up, her frustration rising.“No—seriously, I don’t like this. Everything feels… wrong.”Joy leaned back slightly.“Everything is wrong,” she said calmly.“That’s the point.”Veronica shook her head.“No, it’s not! This isn’t something to play with.”Joy’s eyes shifted to her.“I’m not playing.”Christiana finally spoke.Her voice low.Contr
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