Page 6 of The Bratva Stalker's Ruthless Claim
“No wonder Professor Blythe praised your…what did he call it again?” Adrian taps his chin theatrically. “Your uncanny ability to identify deception.”
I laugh quietly, shaking my head.
Professor Blythe is the director of the university’s forensic linguistics research lab, which technically makes him my supervisor. Compliments from him are rare enough to qualify as minor historical events.
“Uncanny is a bit dramatic,” I say.
Adrian leans forward, genuinely curious now. “No, seriously. How do you do it?”
I open my mouth, but Samantha smacks his arm before I can answer. “Hey,” she warns.
“What?”
“She’s taking a break.”
Adrian gestures helplessly. “I asked one question.”
Samantha points at me. “No work talk.” Then she turns toward me conspiratorially. “Did you see the sweater Professor Ben wore today?”
Adrian groans. “Oh, my god.”
“Did anyone see that?” Samantha continues, clearly delighted. “It was like…beige and green and—”
I groan loudly. “I want to talk about work.”
Samantha gasps in mock horror. “Ellie.”
“What?”
“You are physically incapable of relaxing.”
“Incorrect. I’m relaxing right now.”
“You’re staring at a spectrogram.”
I shrug. “It’s soothing.”
Adrian laughs under his breath.
I turn back to him.
“Anyway,” I say, gesturing slightly with the chip in my hand, “language always betrays emotion before actions do.”
He straightens a little. Now he’s interested. “What do you mean?”
I tap the edge of the desk thoughtfully. “When people feel strong emotion—anger, fear, stress—their brain starts prioritizing speed over structure.”
“So?”
“So sentence patterns compress.”
He frowns slightly, thinking.
“Like shorter sentences?”
“Not just shorter,” I say. “Articles disappear. Conjunctions drop out. The brain cuts grammatical corners.”
Adrian’s eyes flick toward my monitor. “So if someone’s lying—”
