The evening in the Glade was loud with voices and laughter near the fire. For a long time, that’s where Newt and Lula used to sit together — talking, arguing, or just watching everyone else.

Lately, though, that had stopped.

Behind the kitchen hut it was quiet. Newt stood there checking a small list, focused on work.

Lula approached slowly.

“Can we talk?”

Newt didn’t look up. “If it’s quick.”

She paused for a second.

“Right… quick.”

For a while, she had been the one starting every conversation, every joke, every moment between them.

She stepped closer.

“You’ve been acting weird with me.”

Newt finally glanced up, tired. “I’ve been busy.”

“You always say that.”

“Well, it happens to be true.”

Lula crossed her arms.

“You ignore me half the time.”

Newt shrugged, already looking back at the paper. “Maybe you’re imagining things.”

Her eyes flashed.

“I’m not imagining you walking away every time I try to talk to you.”

Newt sighed, clearly impatient.

“Lu, not everything has to be a big discussion.”

“That’s not what this is.”

“Then what is it?”

She hesitated before answering.

“I just wanted to know if I did something.”

Newt frowned slightly. “Did something…?”

“Yeah,” she said quietly. “Because lately you act like you can’t stand being around me.”

Newt rubbed his forehead.

“I don’t have time for this right now.”

The words came out sharper than he meant.

But they still landed.

Lula went still.

For a moment she just looked at him.

Then she nodded slowly.

“Okay.”

Newt blinked. “Okay?”

She stepped back, expression tired.

“Yeah,” she said.

“I get it.”

Newt frowned. “Get what?”