"I'm fine." She pours herself a cup, adds oat milk from the fridge. Her movements are careful, like she's trying not to draw attention to herself.
A far cry from yesterday's performance.
"Diamond."
She stills. Doesn't turn around.
"Look at me."
For a second, I think she won't. Then she turns, and those blue eyes meet mine, and I see everything she's trying to hide. Confusion. Embarrassment. And underneath it, something that looks almost like hunger.
"About last night," I start.
"You don't have to explain." Her voice is flat. "I broke the rules. You disciplined me. Message received."
"That's not what I was going to say."
"Then what?"
I should apologize. I should tell her it won't happen again, that I crossed a line, that she can call her father and have me replaced if she wants. That's what a professional would do.
But I'm not feeling very professional right now.
"I was going to ask if you're okay."
Something flickers across her face. Surprised, like no one's asked her that in a long time.
"I'm fine," she says again. But this time it sounds more like a question.
***
The day passes strangely. Diamond doesn't retreat to her room. She doesn't put on a show. She just exists. Reads a book on the couch while I do security checks. Makes herself a sandwich forlunch and eats it at the kitchen island, watching me with those big eyes when she thinks I'm not looking.
She's different. Quieter. The bratty armor is gone, and what's underneath is something I didn't expect.
She's curious.
Around six, I start making dinner.
"You cook."
I look up. Diamond is leaning against the doorway, watching me.
"I cook."
"Where did you learn?"
"My grandmother." I add garlic to the pan, let it sizzle. "She raised me and my sister after our parents split. Cooking was her love language."
Diamond moves closer. "What happened to her?"
"She died. Eight years ago. While I was..."
"In prison."
"Yeah." I don't look at her. "I couldn't go to the funeral. They don't let you out for things like that."
She's quiet for a moment. Then she slides onto a stool at the island, close enough that I could touch her if I reached out.
