The room felt different now.
Not loud. Not chaotic.
Heavy.
The kind of heaviness that pressed against your chest and made you careful with every breath. Lewis stood there like the center of it all, calm on the surface, but holding something dangerous beneath. No one dared interrupt him. No one even shifted their weight.
Malcom finally broke the silence. His voice was controlled, but I could hear the strain underneath.
"Lewis, there's really no need to push things this far," he said. "We were only asking Ms. Ashbourne a few questions. No real harm was done. Why turn this into something bigger than it is?"
I felt Lewis move beside me.
Not closer. Not louder.
Just enough for everyone to feel him.
"Oh?" he said softly. "If nothing was wrong, then kneeling shouldn't be difficult. Or are apologies suddenly too painful when the victim is mine?"
The room went colder.
