Dylan sat on the edge of the bed, his back slightly hunched, elbows resting on his knees. He kept his eyes down for a moment, as if the words were costing him something.
"In three days, they'll come for you and Élisa… to assign you to your new teams."
Silence exploded all at once.
"What?!"
Maggie had straightened up, eyes wide — almost shocked. No, betrayed. Her legs slid off the bed before she even realized. Her whole body protested, tense with a momentum she hadn't yet decided how to direct.
"You mean we're being split up?!"
Dylan raised his head. He didn't look surprised by her reaction. He'd anticipated it. But that didn't make it any easier to take.
"That's Gael's decision. Or, as he calls it… a strategic redistribution. He wants to make the most of everyone's unique skills. Split the profiles, create asymmetrical teams."
He paused, then added with tired irony:
"A classy way of saying he doesn't want us getting too attached, I guess."
