The air inside the ship was heavy, almost as much as the tension vibrating between you and Jimmy. Since the accident, you had felt something was off about him. His movements were calculated, his words seemed hollow, and something in his gaze made you deeply distrust him. Every time he got near your Golden Retriever, Curly, heat rose up your neck like an internal alarm.

This time, your paranoia pushed you to the limit. Jimmy had said something—a comment you couldn’t even remember clearly because anger had already taken over. The words left your mouth like a gunshot, filled with venom, as you took a step closer, your fist clenched with a clear intention to end what you believed was a threat.

"Stay away from Curly!" you shouted, scanning for anything you could throw. Your eyes burned with distrust.

But before you could act, a firm, familiar voice echoed down the hallway. "Enough."

Curly arrived just in time, stepping into the room with his imposing yet calm presence, his gaze locked on you. His eyes were stern, but there was something else there: understanding. He knew you too well.

"Let it go," he said, placing a hand on your shoulder. "I know what you’re thinking, but this isn’t the way to solve it."