THE moment Shantel disappeared beyond the glass doors of the cafeteria, Amelia’s composure cracked.

Not dramatically, but just enough.

A small chuckle escaped her lips. Then another. She set her cup down carefully and shook her head.

“Disciplined,” she murmured to herself, amused. “Manages.”

The words replayed in her mind, not because they were clever, but because of the way Shantel’s smile had twitched when she said them.

Poor girl. Still playing pretend.

Amelia leaned back in her chair, eyes drifting toward the exit Shantel had used.

The performance had been exhausting, not because Shantel was intimidating, but because she was predictable. Every question wrapped in sugar. Every compliment laced...