Amara grumbled. "Minimal Amara? Rude." She folded her arms and sank back into the armchair like a disgruntled cat. "If it weren't for me, we wouldn't even have a scandal to fix."
Marisol fixed her with a look so sharp it could've cut glass. "You say that like it's a good thing."
Elara, perched on the sofa next to Amara, gently rested a hand on her arm. "She means you've done enough damage."
"Right, thanks for clarifying," Amara said dryly, shooting Elara a side-eye. "Next time, I'll just let Evil Amara take over again. Maybe she can start a podcast or something."
The System chimed in, as if on cue. [To be fair, Evil Amara had a certain flair. Her public humiliation of Eirik was inspired. Your father's cardiac episode? Less so.]
"Shut up," Amara snapped, earning herself a confused look from Marisol.
Marisol held up a hand. "I don't even want to know. Let's stay focused. Felix, ideas?"
