Rhea smirked and went.
The air was still.
Too still.
Mira turned slowly.
Ling Kwong stood there — jacket off, sleeves rolled, hands relaxed at her sides.
That was what terrified people the most.
"Ling," Mira said, forcing a laugh, wiping at her eyes quickly. "You— you heard wrong. I was just—"
"You knew," Ling said quietly.
Two words.
They hit harder than shouting.
Mira's breath hitched. "Ling, listen—"
"You knew the elevator was faulty," Ling continued, voice even, controlled, lethal. "And you told Jian to suggest it to her."
Jian's name fell like a verdict.
Mira's knees weakened. "I didn't push her," she blurted. "I just— I thought—"
"You thought she'd be scared," Ling said. "Humiliated. Small."
Her eyes lifted. Dark. Focused.
"And you were fine if that killed her."
Mira started crying then. Real tears. Ugly. Desperate.
"Why do you care?" she sobbed. "Why do you care about her so much?"
Students passing nearby slowed unconsciously. No one dared come closer.
"You're my childhood friend," Mira cried. "I've always been there. Always. Everyone knows."
Mira shook her head violently. "Mom she will never accept Rhea. Never. Mom hates girls like her. You know that. She'll ruin her."
Ling stopped inches from Mira's face.
"You don't get to threaten me with my own house," she said softly.
"My mother," Ling said calmly, "does not decide who I breathe for."
Mira grabbed Ling's arm. Does she matter so much? Tell me. Just tell me."
Ling didn't pull away.
She looked down at Mira's hand — then back into her face.
"I don't care," Ling said.
The lie was perfect.
And Mira knew it.
"Liar," Mira whispered.
Ling leaned closer, voice low enough that only Mira could hear.
"You endangered what is mine," Ling said. "That's all you need to understand."
Mira froze.
"What… what do you mean yours?"
Ling straightened, mask snapping fully back into place.
"You're done," she said. "With her. With me."
Mira's knees weakened. "I just thought—"
Ling took one step forward.
"I didn't ask what you thought."
Tears spilled freely now. Mira shook her head, voice breaking. "I know you. I belong there."
Ling's jaw tightened.
"You're confusing access with entitlement," she said.
Mira laughed through tears, hysterical. "Your mother already sees me as her daughter-in-law. Mom loves me. She'll never accept Rhea. Never. You know that."
Silence.
Ling didn't deny it.
But her eyes were dark, distant — fixed on something Mira could never touch.
"You don't get to decide who matters to me," Ling said quietly.
Mira stepped closer, desperation bleeding through her composure. "I did it because I was scared. Because you're slipping. Because you don't look at me anymore. Because I love you."
The word hit the air.
Ling flinched — not from emotion, but from discomfort.
"Mira," she said flatly, "your obsession is not love."
Mira froze.
"I won't punish you for wanting me," Ling continued. "I won't ruin you for feelings you didn't choose."
Mira's eyes lit with hope.
"But," Ling added, voice dropping, "you crossed a line when you used her fear."
Hope died instantly.
"You will stay away from Rhea," Ling said. "You will not speak to her. You will not breathe in her direction. And you will never use my name to justify your jealousy again."
Mira sobbed. "You're choosing her."
Ling looked away.
"I'm choosing control," she said. "Something you lost."
She turned to leave.
At the door, she paused — not for Mira, but for herself.
"And Mira?" Ling said without looking back. "My mother's approval has never decided my life."
The door closed.
Mira slid to the floor, shaking.