The porcelain cup slipped from Evelyn's fingers and hit the floor with a sharp, shattering sound.
Hot tea splashed across the tiles and the shattered glass filled the floor in front of her.
Daisy hurried to Evelyn, eyes wide. "Are you okay?" she asked, reaching toward Evelyn, whose hands still hovered midair like they hadn't realized the cup was gone.
But before Evelyn could respond, Elias spoke.
"Why?" he asked. "Did you hate my smile so much that you trembled from anger?"
Evelyn's eyes widened. Her lips parted, but no words came out, just a trembling breath, like her lungs forgot how to function.
Daisy stood there, stunned, caught in the invisible wreckage between them.
Elias didn't move and refused to blink. His smile thinned, sharpened. And when he spoke again, it was in a voice far too calm for what it carried.
"Don't even smile," he echoed her words from long ago. "You look like him. You remind me of him."
His gaze dropped, voice twisting darker.
