Sally's POV
The tension in the living room could be cut with a knife. I stand in the center of the space, surrounded by four men whose eyes never leave me. Karl lounges on the couch with deceptive casualness, but I catch the way his fingers grip the cushion. Philip perches on the edge of his seat, wound tight as a spring. Sean has planted himself against the wall, arms folded, watching me with that steady intensity that makes my pulse skip. Ajax paces by the window like a caged animal.
They're all waiting for me to break the silence.
My stomach churns as I lower myself onto the carpet, putting distance between us. The words I need to say feel like shards of glass in my throat.
"We can't keep dancing around this," I begin, my voice shakier than I'd like. "There are things we need to discuss, and I've been avoiding them because they're terrifying. But avoiding them won't make them disappear."
Four pairs of eyes lock onto me with laser focus. None of them interrupt.
