The corridor carried sound easily at this hour, footsteps echoing, laughter drifting—and his voice slipped into it like it always did, easy, confident, careless. You hadn’t meant to stop. You hadn’t meant to listen. But the second you heard your name, your body stalled before your mind caught up.

“—told you I could do it.”

There was a grin in Fred’s voice. You could hear it without seeing him.

A beat followed, then the familiar shift of coins and the low chuckle of George. “Yeah, alright,” George said. “Didn’t think she’d say yes that quick.”

Something in your chest dropped—sharp, immediate.

Fred let out a short laugh, softer now but still there, still real. “Wasn’t even that hard,” he said. “You owe me.”

The words didn’t sound cruel.

That was the problem.

They sounded easy. Offhand. Like it hadn’t meant anything at all.

You didn’t move at first. Couldn’t. The moment stretched just long enough for it to settle into something solid, something you couldn’t mishear or reinterpret.

Then you stepped forward.