The breakfast table had moved on.

That was the thing about this group - tension never pooled for long. It was absorbed, rerouted, folded back into laughter or argument or the specific comfortable chaos that six people generate when they have known each other long enough to stop being careful. Garvit had said what he had said. Aryan had shut it down. Ishvika had filed the confusion somewhere quiet inside her and returned her attention to her chai. And now - ten minutes later - the table was loud again, Diya was arguing with Vivaan about something completely unrelated, and the moment existed only in the two people who were pretending it didn't.