Her face keeps behaving. Her body does not.

She straightens by almost nothing. One shoulder drops. Her walk slows half a step, and the hallway suddenly feels too narrow for a normal walk. She is still talking to whoever came in with her, still nodding at the right places, still pretending the room did not change.

Then the bag switches sides. Hair goes behind one ear. Her hips find a cleaner line than the conversation asked for. If she laughs it off later, fine. The hallway already got the first answer.