Eve
The air was heavy, but I forced myself to look forward. At Jules. Her eyes were on me as well, unreadable in an eerie way.
I opened my mouth to apologize, but her hand came up.
"You don't need to," she said. "It was not your fault. I'm just glad you are doing better."
I glanced down at the hands she folded in her lap. Every other part of her was as still as a statue, except for her fingers, which restlessly twisted together, betraying the calm expression she wore. The silence stretched between us, taut and thin, as if any wrong word might shatter it.
I wanted to believe her. That it wasn't my fault. But the weight pressing against my chest didn't lift.
"Jules…" I said her name softly, tasting the hesitation on my tongue. "I—"
Her fingers stilled. Her gaze flickered up to meet mine, sharp and searching.
