[Herbalist Shop — 11:00 AM]
Emily had finished the main work.
The herbalist had left them the workshop — "I have things to do in the south district, lock up when you leave" — with the confidence of someone who knows her space will be respected.
Alex was still on the bench.
Emily organized what she had bought — the plants wrapped in specific paper to preserve their properties, labeled with the small, precise handwriting she used for everything.
"Can I ask something?" said Alex.
"Yes."
"Are you okay? With everything. Not the team, not the missions." He looked directly at her. "You."
Emily stopped labeling.
Several seconds of silence.
"I'm okay," she said.
"Emily."
"I'm…" She considered honesty. "I'm processing things."
"What things?"
She turned around.
Not with discomfort — with the expression of someone who had been holding something in for a while.
