The boy had been quiet the entire time, hunched over his bowl of noodle soup. Now the bowl sat empty in front of him—every drop of broth gone, not even a scrap of noodle left. His fingers clutched the rim, his small shoulders tense.
Eryx didn't wait.
"Who asked you to throw the rotten egg?"
The boy flinched. He gripped the bowl tighter like it might shield him. "I didn't mean to hurt anyone," he mumbled, eyes still lowered. "I just… did what she told me."
"She?" Eryx pressed, voice calm but cutting. "Say the name."
The boy hesitated, clearly torn. Then he swallowed and said, "I don't know her real name. She just said to call her Miss Dalia."
Eryx's eyes narrowed.
Lunara's voice came gently but firmly, "And what did this Miss Dalia look like?"
The boy fidgeted, drawing circles on the table with his finger. "Tall. Wore glasses and looked nerdy?" He hesitated, finding it hard to explain Dalia's appearance.
"Nerdy?" Lunara smiled, "Do you know the meaning of nerd?"
