Gabe was right to pause— though he might not realize it as he leaves in a curling wisp of smoke— the last shadowy trail masking shifting camouflage that dissipates almost simultaneously: her arms folded, hair wet, towel wrapped casually around her neck.

For a beat, she doesn't say anything, watching Gabriel disappear with unreadable interest.

He could have told Amélie the truth. Confessed that Sombra's been tipping the scale to skew their perceptions— their allegiences— but he didn't. Not a single word. Nothing. And it's enough to solidify some faint glimmer of something hovering in the back of her mind.

She turns to Amélie once he's gone, kicking herself off the wall and lifting her hands in a show of compliance. "Better?"