Harin's breath hitched, just for a second. It was barely noticeable, but Mingwa caught it—just like she caught everything else.
A slow smirk tugged at Mingwa's lips, her expression calm, almost amused. She could feel the weight of the crew's stares, the murmurs growing louder, uncertainty thick in the air. Harin had been so confident before, so sure of herself. But now? Now there was a crack in her perfect facade.
Sihua, emboldened by the shift in the room, scoffed. "You've been talking in circles this whole time, Harin. Maybe we should be the ones asking you some questions."
Harin's head snapped toward her. "Excuse me?"
Sihua stepped forward, eyes narrowing. "You've been so focused on making Mingwa look bad that you haven't even considered how suspicious you sound."
Harin let out a breathy laugh, shaking her head as if Sihua had just said something absurd. "Oh, come on. Now you're turning this on me?"
