Lisa’s POV
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out—just a dry squeak, like my throat forgot how to work. Damon stood there, jug dangling in his hand, his eyes scanning between me and Heri. Too sharp. Too heavy.
“I… uh…” My lips stuck together. My palms were sweaty, trembling, and I tried wiping them on my shirt but it only made the fabric cling. “I-I… urmm…”
Heri clutched at my arm, pressing into my side like she wanted me to shield her, and that tiny shake in her fingers made my chest hurt. Damon took a slow step closer, tilting his head, his nostrils flaring like he was trying to sniff something out.
“Lisa,” he said, voice lower, firmer now. “I know something happened. Don’t… don’t say nothing. Because I feel it. The fear. The drain. It’s heavy on you both.”
Ahh, crap. My knees buck
