Eleanor's fingers curled slightly behind her back, tension coiled beneath her usually pristine posture. Still no proof. Still no concrete signature to grasp. But instincts this sharp didn't lie.
She needed answers.
Her gaze swept over the group again—Sylvie, Irina, Layla, Jasmine—each still faintly tense beneath the shadow of what had just happened. The moment was waning, but the residual charge hadn't fully cleared. The mana in the air still tasted off.
She took a breath.
"Everyone," she said, tone calm but unmistakably final. "Leave us."
There was a beat of silence—brief, but thick.
Layla's expression immediately fell. "Wait—Professor, Astron didn't do anything. If this is about—"
"Out," Eleanor repeated, sharper now. "This is between me and him."
