Layla sat quietly, watching Jane's troubled face. The tension in the room hung heavy, but her curiosity was eating at her. She turned to Karl, intending to lighten the mood, when her hand reached for her glass of water.
Without warning, the glass shattered in her grip. Shards of glass scattered across the table as water splashed over her lap.
"Layla!" Jane gasped, jumping to her feet. "Are you okay?"
Layla stared at her trembling hand, her eyes wide. "I didn't mean to… I barely touched it." Her voice wavered, teetering between confusion and fear.
Karl moved quickly, grabbing a towel to mop up the mess. "Did you cut yourself?" he asked, inspecting her hand.
"No," Layla replied, her voice barely a whisper. "It didn't even hurt. I didn't squeeze that hard, Karl. I swear."
