Mr. Jefri stood like a statue, his posture military-stiff, his face a mask of cold fury. He didn't just watch us; he glared, his eyes boring into me with a bitter, cynical intensity."Mr. Jefri?" I whispered to myself, keeping my pace steady so I wouldn't look like I was running.Roy, however, didn't notice him at all. He kept his chin tucked, his hand tight around mine, and marched us right past the professor. For a volatile microsecond, Jefri’s gaze locked onto mine. He didn't move—he remained perfectly still as we swept past—but the rigid tension in his face told me everything. He was furious.Why? I wondered, my pulse quickening. Is he actually jealous, or am I just flattering myself?When we reached the valet, I glanced back. Jefri was walking back into the mall, his phone already pressed to his ear."Erika, I’m so sorry," Roy said, opening the car door for me. "The media swarm back there must have been jarring.""It’s fine," I lied, flashing him my brightest smile. "Just part of
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