For a few seconds after the lights came back, no one moved.
The room held its breath.
Gale's hand remained locked around the stranger's wrist, the blade frozen in place just inches from Vanessa's throat. The distance was so small that, under different circumstances, it would have meant the difference between life and death.
Vanessa could feel it.
Not the blade itself.
But the presence of it.
The intention behind it.
And yet—
She hadn't moved.
Marco slowly lowered his weapon, though he didn't relax.
"Okay," he said, voice tight but controlled, "I'm going to say something obvious."
No one interrupted him.
"That," he pointed carefully at the knife still held mid-air, "was extremely unnecessary."
The stranger didn't look at Marco.
His gaze remained fixed on Vanessa.
As if Marco's words were irrelevant.
As if the only response that mattered—
Was hers.
Vanessa held his stare.
Unflinching.
"You made your point," she said quietly.
The stranger's lips curved slightly.
