As Don and Madam Lily passed the cluster of staff and Hell Riders still gathered near the stage, she stole a glance to her right.
Winter stood motionless atop the stage, arms relaxed at her sides, eyes dull and unreadable. Madam Lily's gaze lingered for half a second longer than intended, something analytical passing through her thoughts.
But Don didn't look. He just kept walking, eyes forward, glassy silence radiating off him like heat from sunbaked concrete.
Winter blinked once.
Then she spoke.
"It seems as though our time here is over," she said, her voice perfectly even. "So I will not be able to continue with the interviews."
A collective, silent wave of relief rolled through the room. Shoulders dropped. Eyes flicked toward exits. Even a few small exhales broke through clenched teeth.
Except one.
"Aww… shucks," Ginger said from her spot, her hand still raised like a child forgotten by the teacher.
Winter didn't acknowledge her.
Instead, she continued.
