Clarence’s POV

After Stella stormed off, the corridor felt too quiet.

I didn’t move right away. Just stood there, letting the silence press down. My gaze drifted to the other end, where Freya stood half-shrouded in shadow, her hoodie bunched at the wrists, the faint smear of stage makeup still clinging beneath her jaw.

She looked... shaken.

Embarrassed. Tense. Like a bird that had flown straight into glass and was still ...