Claustrophobic.
Veyra sat behind her massive desk, fingers steepled, the streaks of silver hair gleaming under the desk lamp. Her eyes moved from face to face.
Mathias stood near the bookshelves, arms loosely folded, posture relaxed. He knew he was not the one in trouble.
Celeste sat ramrod straight in one of the visitor chairs, lip still swollen, a thin line of dried blood at the corner of her mouth. She kept shooting me venomous glances, but every time she opened her mouth, Veyra’s gaze flicked to her, and she swallowed the words.
Tara and Sage huddled together on the small sofa, eyes wide, saying nothing.
Jane sat beside me, knee bouncing, fingers twisting in her lap. She kept glancing at me like she wanted to say something reassuring but couldn’t find the words.
And me…
I sat w
