Elena's POV He walked through the bakery door at six fifteen and I knew immediately that the league office had not been kind. Not because he looked broken. Alexander never looked broken. It was subtler than that. The way he carried himself was the same as always, straight and controlled, but something behind his eyes was doing the work of holding everything together that his posture usually did automatically, and after months of learning the private version of his face I could see exactly what it was costing him. I did not say anything. I just looked at him from behind the counter and let him come in. Miss Clara appeared from the kitchen, read the room in approximately one second, untied her apron, hung it on the hook by the door, picked up her bag, and said, "I will see you both tomorrow," without breaking stride. The front door closed behind her with a soft click. Just like that it was only the two of us. "Sit down," I said. "I am fine." "I did not ask if you were fine," I
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