7

Aaron stopped moving. Silence hung in the air. Slowly, Aaron lifted his head, turned his chair, and looked at Amelie with an unreadable expression. His dark eyes radiated something difficult to interpret, a mixture of surprise and cold calculation. "Your birthday?" he asked, his voice flat again, his icy mask back in place. "What did you expect, Amelie? A lavish party in the middle of this situation?" There was a sharp note of sarcasm in his words. Amelie felt her cheeks heat up, embarrassment and anger mingling together. Of course, Aaron Vargas wouldn't understand. She knew her question was stupid, but she just wanted to see what would happen. She sighed, looking at Rossie, who was still fast asleep. An idea flashed through her mind. "Not for me," Amelie replied, her voice now calmer, even though her heart was pounding. She looked at Aaron again, trying to appear convincing. "For Rossie. She... she'll be four soon. She loves birthdays, even though she's never had a proper one." Her