(POV: Amelia)
The corridor felt quieter than usual.
Too quiet.
Amelia's steps were soft, almost silent—but her thoughts refused to follow the same steady rhythm. They were still outside, lingering in the darkness near the hangar, caught in the unfinished conversation with Rhys.
Even within herself, nothing felt settled.
Something remained suspended there. Something she couldn't resolve in a single night.
She was just about to reach her door when a voice stopped her.
"—If you want to tell her how you feel, I can give you time, Dawson."
Amelia froze in place.
Scarlett.
The same voice she had known since Cranwell—calm, controlled, but always carrying an edge beneath it.
She didn't move. Didn't dare.
"—but if you're just trying to play the hero for her, then leave."
Silence.
Heavier than the words themselves.
Amelia held her breath. She couldn't see them clearly—only shadows at the far end of the corridor, silhouettes blurred by dim lighting.
But she could imagine it.
Scarlett—sharp, unwavering.
Kai—jaw tight, holding something back like he always did.
Amelia swallowed. She didn't want to hear more.
But she couldn't leave either.
Her feet refused to move.
And inside her chest—
something shifted.
Not curiosity.
Something heavier.
Fear.
A few seconds passed before she forced herself forward. Her boots broke the silence—too loud in her own ears.
Scarlett and Kai turned immediately.
Their eyes met.
The air between them felt dense—too dense to breathe comfortably.
"What are you doing here?" Amelia asked.
Her voice was flat.
Too flat.
Scarlett didn't answer.
She simply looked at Amelia for a few seconds—long enough to make the space between them feel smaller.
"Room. Now."
No room for argument.
Amelia opened the door and stepped inside first.
Click.
The door shut behind them.
The sound echoed louder than it should have.
The room instantly felt smaller.
Like the walls were closing in.
Like the air had thinned.
An interrogation room.
"What do you think you're doing?"
Scarlett's voice was quiet.
But sharp.
"Scar, I—"
"Don't call me that."
Fast. Cutting.
Scarlett stepped forward.
And for the first time, Amelia saw something in her eyes.
Not just sharpness.
Something raw.
"You. Said. My name. As what?"
Each word landed slowly.
Heavy.
"A replacement? A second option?"
A faint smile touched her lips—cold, humorless.
"To Rhys Cavanaugh?"
Amelia swallowed.
"It's not like that," she said quietly. "I was just saying what I saw—"
"What did you see?"
Scarlett cut in, her voice rising slightly.
"You think you're the only one capable of seeing?"
Amelia shook her head. Too quickly.
"You like him!"
The words burst out.
"You always have!"
"And who gave you the right to say that?"
Scarlett stepped closer.
Too close.
"Who gave you the right to speak about something I've never even said out loud?"
The air turned cold. Pressing.
"You think you're helping?"
Softer now.
Sharper.
"Doing the right thing?"
That same thin smile returned.
Bitter.
"Oh, Amelia…"
Almost a whisper.
"Always trying to fix everything."
"This isn't about that!"
Amelia's voice broke.
"I turned him down! I said no! I wasn't lying when I said I don't have feelings for him!"
"Then why did you say my name?!"
For the first time, Scarlett raised her voice.
Not a shout.
But enough.
And beneath it—
not just anger.
Pain.
"Why didn't you just let him go?"
"Why did you have to make me look like—"
She stopped.
But Amelia already knew.
"—like something you offered out of pity?"
"Because you're my friend!"
The words shattered out of her.
Tears fell before she could stop them.
"I saw his photo in your book! The note on the back!"
Scarlett froze.
Just for a fraction of a second.
"I know what you feel!" Amelia continued, her voice trembling.
"I know it's real to you!"
Her breathing faltered.
"I didn't want to lose you because of this…"
Silence.
Scarlett didn't move.
Then—
"You think this is something that can be shared?"
Her voice turned cold again.
"Like a mission assignment?"
Her gaze cut straight through her.
"You take one. I take one?"
Amelia shook her head.
"You don't get to give anyone to me."
Each word was measured.
But cutting.
"And you don't get to step aside for me."
A steady stare.
"You're only making everything… look weak."
Silence.
Amelia couldn't respond.
Scarlett turned away.
Her hand was on the door.
"Don't ever talk about my feelings again."
Click.
SLAM.
The door shut hard.
The sound echoed.
And suddenly—
the room felt too empty.
Amelia stood frozen.
Then slowly, her legs gave out, and she sank onto the edge of the bed.
Her hands trembled.
Her breathing faltered.
Everything felt too much.
Too fast.
Too heavy.
Tears fell again.
Quiet.
And for the first time in a very long time—
Amelia truly felt alone.