“Let’s see what you’re hiding.”

The words still lingered faintly in the air when Avira shifted her weight forward, balancing carefully on the balls of her feet. The concrete beneath her was uneven, brittle in places where the fire had eaten deeper than expected.

Abir remained standing just behind her.

Not looming.

Not distant.

Close enough that if either of them moved without thinking....

They would touch again.

Avira adjusted the angle of her tool, tracing along a darker burn streak that cut across the floor at a slight diagonal. Her brows pulled together, focus sharpening.

“This shouldn’t be like this,” she murmured.

Abir didn’t respond immediately.

He stepped closer instead.

One step....

Measured....

Deliberate....

Now he could see what she was seeing; not just the pattern, but the precision in the way she observed it. The slight tilt of her head. The way her fingers hovered before committing to a measurement. The quiet confidence in her movements.

“You’re following the spread backward,” he said after a moment.

It wasn’t a question.

Avira glanced up at him again, quicker this time.

“You’re not?” she countered.

There was a faint challenge in her tone.

Light....

But real....

Abir’s gaze dropped back to the floor between them.

“I am,” he said.

A pause.

Then, softer....

“Just not from the same point.”

That caught her attention.

She straightened slightly, turning just enough to face him without fully standing. The movement brought her closer; closer than either of them had been a moment ago.

“How?” she asked.

Abir crouched beside her.

The shift in height closed the distance further.

Now they were level.

Close enough that the space between them felt… intentional.

He reached out...not touching her, not yet...but pointing toward a section of the floor just past where she had been analyzing.

“Here,” he said.

His voice was quieter now.

Not because he needed to lower it.

But because the space seemed to demand it.

Avira leaned in slightly, following the direction of his hand.

Their shoulders brushed again.

This time, neither of them reacted.

Not outwardly.

But the awareness was there.

Constant....

He traced an invisible line through the burn marks, connecting points that didn’t immediately seem related.

“It spreads like it starts here,” he continued, “but the intensity drops too quickly. Then it spikes again further out.”

Avira’s eyes followed the path he indicated.

Her focus sharpened.

“….That’s not natural,” she said slowly.

“No.”

Their voices overlapped slightly.

They both paused.

Just for a second.

Then....

A faint exhale left Avira’s lips.

Half amusement.

Half something else.

“Okay,” she said, adjusting her position slightly. “So we agree something’s off.”

Abir nodded once.

But his attention had shifted.

Not away from the case.

Just….divided.

Because now....

He was aware of things he hadn’t been a moment ago.

The faint scent of something; not perfume exactly, something softer, cleaner; mixed with the lingering smoke.

The quiet rhythm of her breathing.

Even....

Controlled....

But not entirely unaffected.

And the way her hand rested near his on the floor....

Close enough that their fingers could touch if either of them moved even slightly.

He didn’t move.

Neither did she.

But neither pulled away either.

Avira reached for a small flashlight from her kit, angling it across the surface to highlight the depth variations in the burn marks.

The beam cut across the floor, illuminating subtle grooves, darker patches, areas where the heat had concentrated unnaturally.

She leaned forward further.

And without realizing it....

She shifted closer into his space.

Abir felt it instantly.

Not as intrusion.

As….alignment.

Like something settling into place.

His breath slowed.

Matched hers.

Not consciously.

Just….naturally.

Avira adjusted the angle of the light again, her arm brushing lightly against his as she did.

This time, the contact lingered.

A fraction longer.

Because neither of them moved to break it.

The silence stretched.

But it wasn’t empty.

It was thick.

Charged.

The kind of silence that holds something just beneath the surface, waiting for the smallest shift to break it open.

Avira cleared her throat softly.

Not because she needed to.

Because something in her chest had tightened again.

Unfamiliar.....

Uninvited.....

“See this?” she said, pointing to a small, almost overlooked section where the burn pattern curved inward instead of outward.

Abir leaned in closer.

Too close, maybe.

But neither acknowledged it.

“Yes,” he said.

His voice came out lower than before.

Closer....

Avira swallowed subtly.

“That curve shouldn’t exist if the fire spread naturally,” she continued. “It suggests....”

“....interruption,” Abir finished.

Again, their words overlapped.

Again, they paused.

This time, neither looked away immediately.

Their faces were close enough now that the space between them felt….fragile.

Like something that could break with the smallest movement.

Avira became acutely aware of it.

The proximity.

The way his gaze didn’t flicker or shift nervously....just held, steady and intent.

It should have been uncomfortable.

It wasn’t.

That was the problem.

Her voice softened without her meaning it to.

“Yeah,” she said. “Interruption.”

Abir’s gaze dropped briefly....to her lips.

Just for a second.

Then back to her eyes.

The shift was subtle.

But it changed something.

Avira noticed.

Not consciously.

But her breath caught slightly.

Just once.

Then steadied again.

Focus.

Work.

She pulled back slightly; not abruptly, not enough to break the connection completely, just enough to create a sliver of space.

Enough to breathe.

“Could be accelerant,” she said, turning the flashlight slightly to avoid looking at him for a moment.

“Or controlled ignition,” Abir replied.

“Multiple points?”

“Possibly.”

She nodded, absorbing that.

Then glanced back at him.

The space between them remained smaller than before.

But now it felt….chosen.

Not accidental.

“Then this wasn’t random,” she said.

“No.”

A beat.

“Not at all.”

Silence settled again.

But softer now.

Less tense.

More….aware.

In the distance, something shifted.

A faint creak.

Wood adjusting under stress.

Neither of them paid attention immediately.

Because something else had taken hold of their focus.

Something quieter.

More dangerous.

The growing, undeniable sense that this....

This strange, unexplainable familiarity....

Wasn’t going away.

Avira exhaled slowly, her gaze dropping back to the burn patterns.

“Okay,” she said, voice steadier now. “Let’s map the full spread before we jump to conclusions.”

Abir nodded.

But he didn’t move away.

Not yet.

And neither did she.

They remained there....

Side by side.

Too close.

Too aware.

Studying the same pattern.

Following the same lines.

Their movements beginning to sync without instruction.

Like two people who had done this before.

Many times.

Even if neither of them remembered when.

A faint crack echoed from above.

Sharp....

Sudden....

Both their heads lifted at the same time.

The sound came from somewhere overhead; a weakened support beam shifting under its own compromised weight.

Avira’s eyes tracked it instantly.

Her body tensed....

Not in fear.

In readiness.

Abir followed her gaze.

A fraction of a second slower.

But enough.

The beam groaned again.

And this time....

It moved.

🔥🔥🔥🔥