More than an hour had passed since Scott's sudden outburst. Everything seemed to have settled down a bit, even though some people still didn't stop with their gossip.
The musicians played louder, pretending nothing had happened, but the tension in the air clung stubbornly to every tablecloth, every glass, and every whispered conversation. Ava tried to focus on the rhythm, the chatter, the polite laughter echoing around them. But she couldn't. No matter how hard she tried, she still felt anxious.
She kept seeing Scott's face. It was red, broken, and maybe guilty.
She kept hearing his voice: "You have no idea, do you?"
What was he talking about?
What didn't she have any idea about?
She sighed deeply and glanced at Damian, who had been quiet for the past hour. She could feel Damian's tension pressing against her like a wall.
