Sebastian's POV
The journey back to the dining room tested every fragment of composure I possessed. Maya remained at my side, her fingers interlocked with mine, providing the only anchor that prevented me from completely unraveling. As we entered, curious eyes tracked our movement, and I manufactured what I hoped passed for a pleasant expression.
"Is everything okay?" Mother inquired, worry lines creasing her usually composed features.
"All good," I responded, drawing out Maya's chair with practiced politeness. "She needed her medication, that's all."
The deception flowed effortlessly from my lips, polished by years of corporate negotiations where showing weakness meant certain defeat.
