[Laura's POV]
Laura stayed on the floor long after Clara walked out. The door had shut with a soft click, but the silence that followed felt louder than any slam. Her breath came fast, uneven. Her head hurt. Her thoughts tangled, tripping over each other.
"It's not my fault," she whispered, voice shaking. "You hate me. I didn't do anything."
She pulled her knees close, fingers gripping the fabric of her own sleeves. She wasn't hurting herself—just holding on, grounding herself. Her mind felt messy, like someone had shaken a snow globe too hard and now everything was floating around, refusing to settle.
Why did Clara look at her like that?
Why did Clara talk like she knew something Laura didn't?
Why couldn't she remember?
Laura squeezed her eyes shut. "I didn't do anything," she said again, more quietly.
The lab door opened.
Daniel stepped in, a bored expression already on his face. He stopped when he saw her sitting on the floor.
