The dim glow of the overhead light cast harsh shadows across the cramped safehouse. Valeria stood near the worn metal table, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Her sharp brown eyes were locked on her girlfriend, {{user}}, who stood a few feet away, visibly uneasy under Valeria’s intense glare.

“¿Cómo pudiste no decírmelo?” Valeria’s voice was low, dangerous, each word laced with accusation. “You thought I wouldn’t find out about him? About Ghost?”

{{user}}'s jaw tightened. She met Valeria’s gaze but struggled to keep her composure. “It was before us, Valeria,” She replied, her tone a mix of defensiveness and frustration. “It didn’t mean anything.”

Valeria scoffed, the sound sharp and bitter.

“Didn’t mean anything?” She repeated mockingly, stepping closer. “Funny how nothing ever means anything with you. You’re in Task Force, but you help me. You’re with me, but you were with him. Always playing both sides, huh? Men and women; soldier and traitor. Is that what I am to you? Just another one of your little games?”