The air in the living room was thick, heavy with unspoken words. Zoe sat with her teammates, her heart pounding against her ribs as Serria's question echoed in her ears. "Are you... Zoeshon?"
The room seemed to hold its breath, and Zoe felt the pressure building like a weight pressing on her chest.
She felt a hot flush creeping up her neck, prickling at her skin.
The pizza slice in her lap suddenly looked like the most interesting thing in the world as she tried to avoid eye contact.
Her vision narrowed, focusing on the cheese sliding slightly off the crust. It was safer to stare at that than to see the eyes of her friends waiting, curiosity and expectation hanging in the air like an unspoken challenge.
The others were waiting, their eyes on her, the silence expectant but not pressing—not yet.
She felt the weight of the moment, like a shard of glass suspended above her, ready to drop.
