She never interrupts, nor tries to prove anything.
There's a kind of calmness like a gentle breeze brushing the mountains.
"I've seen it," Maya lifted her cup and took a sip of latte before slowly putting it back down, "Ninety percent of things in this world are half-truths. What others say is their business; as long as my conscience is clear, it's fine."
Clear conscience?
Anyone is qualified to say that, but not her.
Amelia was smiling deeply, her fingertips tapping gently on the cup, making a "dong dong" sound.
She looked at Maya, the smile on her face carrying a hint of strong coercion, as if with just her eyes, she could send her to hell and never give her a chance to escape.
The soft music from the coffee machine became the background noise for their momentary standoff, and the bustling surroundings seemed to have been paused.
Amelia remained silent, just quietly staring at her with a cold and penetrating smile.
