"Was someone investigating me?" Lyra guessed, curiosity slipping into her voice.
"Not exactly," Martin said. "But they requested your photos. That's all I got."
A waiter came by and set a cup of coffee in front of him.
"Who exactly were those people?" she pressed.
Martin shook his head lightly. "Can't say. The requests came in through different channels. I don't get names unless clients choose to give them."
His tone stayed professional—neither hiding nor revealing too much.
"Then forget it," Lyra said, her voice tightening. "I can't trust you if you're already hiding things from me."
She pushed back her chair and stood abruptly, turning away from the table.
"Hey—I'm not hiding anything from you," Martin called after her, watching her head for the café door.
He realized he hadn't been careful with his words. Now she thought he couldn't be trusted, even though he hadn't actually done anything wrong.
