The room froze. Cameron’s head snapped toward them, his face draining of whatever color was left. Avela’s hand flew to her mouth, stifling a gasp. Whispers exploded again, frantic now.
“Who are they?” someone hissed.
“Cops?” another guessed.
I stood there, heart hammering, watching as the men approached. Cameron backed up a step, bumping into a table, glasses rattling. His parents flanked him, looking terrified.
This was even getting better than I thought. I looked at John and a silent conversation passed through us.
The tension in the room seems to reach the rooftop. It wrapped around my throat like a vice. Avela pressed closer to me, her breathing quick.
The men stopped a few feet away, their eyes locked on Cameron. “Mr. Draven,” the lead one said again, firmer this time. “We need
