Andria's POV
Damon exhaled. "Good."
Aven's hand brushed mine, grounding me. "You look pale."
"I'm just tired."
Tristan studied me, seeing straight through my lies. "Did they accuse you?"
My chest tightened. "They… asked questions."
"That's a yes," Damon muttered.
"Tracy already left," Aven said quietly. "Did she say something implicating?"
My lips pressed together. "Why do you ask? Did she give off the vibes?"
Damon scoffed. "Figures. Her body language looked satisfied, and she only looks that way when she bullies someone. And since you were called after her, we just thought…"
"Well, she tried…she said something, but I think I sorted that accusation out like always," I replied, although I felt more unsure now than before.
Tristan's gaze darkened. "Something's not right."
A door opened down the hallway. Allison stepped out, eyes red and swollen. She looked broken.
Aven rushed to her side. "Alli…
She buried her face in his chest, sobbing. "I can't stop seeing them."
