Allyson's POV
Reagan's hands caught her shoulders before she could retreat. "Wait, where are you rushing off to?" His eyes searched her face with growing concern.
Allyson opened her mouth but found her throat constricted. Words seemed trapped behind an invisible barrier. "I need to..." she stammered, avoiding his penetrating gaze.
"What happened?" His voice dropped to a gentler tone. "Something's wrong. I can see it written all over you."
She attempted to pull away, but his grip on her arm tightened. Not painful, but firm enough to anchor her in place.
"Nothing happened. I just need some space," she whispered, making another futile attempt to escape.
"No, you don't." Reagan's voice carried more conviction now. "You don't need to be alone right now. Talk to me, Allyson. Please."
