“You are shaking.”
Elara did not look up from the sink. Water ran endlessly over her hands, though there was no blood to wash away.
“I am fine,” she said.
Adrian leaned against the doorway, watching her reflection in the mirror. Her face was pale, eyes hollowed by exhaustion and something darker he could not name.
“You have not slept,” he said.
“Neither have you.”
That made him smile faintly. “Occupational hazard.”
She turned off the faucet and faced him. “How many people died tonight?”
Adrian hesitated.
“Adrian,” she pressed.
“Two,” he said quietly. “Victor’s men.”
“And the others?”
“Rescued. They are safe now.”
She nodded, absorbing it in silence. “That is good.”
He studied her carefully. “You are too calm.”
Elara crossed her arms. “Would you prefer I scream?”
“No,” he an
