The scene flashed back to the present. Atlas noticed the empty closet and turned sharply to Jelo, his expression hardening. "Why do you even care how we got out?" he asked, his voice carrying an edge. "After all, you were the one who locked us in the closet in the first place."
His anger was evident now, no longer masked by the earlier teasing tone. "If you actually trusted us, you wouldn't have chosen to betray us instead."
The word "betray" hung in the air between them, sharp and accusatory.
Jelo flinched at the harshness of it, but he forced himself to respond. "It wasn't like that," he said quickly, his voice desperate to make them understand. "I didn't lock you in there out of malice or because I wanted to betray you. I did it to protect you from possible consequences. I couldn't, I didn't want you two getting in trouble because of me."
His hands were still covered in blood, and he was acutely aware of how the evidence of violence made his claims of protection sound hollow.
