Zaeryn followed her gaze, squinting against the early morning light. The window was dark, the curtains drawn tight. There was no movement, no silhouette. Just glass reflecting the dawn sky.
"I don't see anything," he said, looking back at her. "Are you messing with me?"
Mireille glanced up at the window herself, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Well, she must have stopped watching now. But she was there. Standing right behind the glass." She paused, a flicker of genuine confusion crossing her features. "Strange, isn't it? She's supposed to hate you, yet she stood there watching you train for the last hour without looking away once."
Zaeryn felt a chill that had nothing to do with the morning air. "She?" he asked, the pieces starting to click together in his mind. "Who?"
Before Mireille could answer, a sharp chime sounded from her wrist. She glanced down at her comms device, her expression instantly shifting back to professional indifference.
