Jessica's POV
I swallowed hard, trying to maintain my composure, even as my pulse quickened.
Beck had an amused glint in his eyes.
"Do you think I'm a killer?" He asked, a slow smile tugging at his lips.
I scoffed. "I think you're a survivor."
Beck arched a brow, his expression unreadable. "That's one way to describe a twelve-year-old boy who killed someone."
"Do you want me to think you're a killer?" I teased, tilting my head.
"Not really," he mused, studying me. "Just curious."
I chuckled, leaning back. "Why are you so interested in what I think about you?"
He rolled his eyes. "I'm not. I'm more interested in what you think about my brothers."
His words caught me off guard. I hesitated, considering my answer. "Um, well, your brother with the black eyes is nice. He—"
"You mean
