Clara stared at the message, her grip tightening around her phone.
The screen glowed in the dark like it had a pulse of its own. Her breath slowed. Then hitched.
She read it again. Once. Then again.
“You’re not the only one he’s been talking to.”
Her chest rose with a sharp breath, air catching in her throat like it wasn’t built to move through her anymore.
She didn’t look up.
Damien stood just feet away, still watching her with that unfathomable calm. As though he hadn't just been dragged, uninvited, into a storm she hadn't seen coming.
"Something wrong?" he asked softly.
She didn't let her voice break.
"No," she said, jamming the phone into her coat pocket. "Just Naomi calling to check in."
He nodded once. Possible. He didn't press.
Clara didn't know why she didn't accost him
