As the plane began its final descent, Clara’s body language had changed. Her posture was no longer as rigid, though she still avoided eye contact with anyone. She slowly reached down to pick up her bag, her hands shaking slightly. Atlas didn’t move from his place, offering the quiet support that only he could, even to a person as unpleasant as she had been.
When the plane landed, the cabin began to empty. Passengers slowly rose, gathering their things, but Clara remained seated, her face flushed with a mix of humiliation and self-realization. She finally stood up, her movements stiff and slow. She didn’t look at Liam, but the silence between them spoke volumes.