The strain in the air did not break all at once, but tightened like a thread drawn too far, too thin, threatening to snap beneath the weight of forces that refused to yield.
Sarah felt it inside her more than around her, a pull in two directions that tore quietly at something already fragile, already cracked, already worn thin by too many choices made for her and too few made by her own hand.
Her breath came uneven, catching sharply as her chest tightened, her fingers curling against her sides as though she could hold herself together by sheer will alone.
"…stop," she whispered, though the word trembled, lacking strength, lacking direction.
Her gaze flickered between Elara and Cassian, her thoughts racing, colliding, refusing to settle.
"I can't—" she started, then faltered.
Cassian watched her.
Not with concern.
Not with impatience.
With quiet calculation.
