Am I supposed to answer that?

The silence stretched in the room like a taut rope, every second pulling tighter. Nicole's grin was practically splitting her face, her eyes darting between Zaya and me as if she were watching her favorite soap opera unfold live.

She was practically vibrating with anticipation, ready to pounce on the slightest hint of drama.

Maya, more reserved but just as intrigued, leaned against the table, her eyebrow quirked as if she were waiting for someone to crack under the pressure.

Her gaze flicked between us, studying every micro-expression like a detective piecing together a case.

Zaya, to her credit, remained stoic, though I noticed the slight twitch at the corner of her mouth a telltale sign she was holding back a smile. She leaned back in her chair, adjusting the ice pack on her jaw with calculated nonchalance.

"Am I supposed to answer that?" she said, her voice smooth but laced with a playful edge.