Third Person's POV
Mortimer stared at the screen, his eyes locked on Seraphina's face.
She was sitting at the conference table, the picture of clinical calm. No fidgeting, no nervous tells.
She didn't speak unless the panel asked for technical specifics.
When she did, her voice was a steady, logical scalpel, dissecting the details with a precision that left zero room for doubt.
He remembered driving to the healing center last night for this exact reason.
But he'd let the "puppy" text and his own jagged jealousy blow his circuits. He'd picked a fight, lost his mind, and pulled a disappearing act to New York.
The irony tasted like ash. Seraphina was the one who had "betrayed" him, yet he was the one running away like a guilty man.
He couldn't shake the look in her eyes when she broug
