Lilith stepped forward casually and ran a hand through Dickson's hair like she was tousling a child. Her fingers brushed through his curls with a faint smirk tugging at her lips.
"I haven't seen you in a while, Dickie," she said, laughing softly.
Dickson's face didn't move at first. His eyes were wide, locked onto hers like he was staring at something impossible. Not shocked. Not surprised. Disturbed.
He looked like he had just seen a ghost.
And then—he jumped to his feet.
"Whoa! What the hell?!"
Lilith blinked, caught off guard. "What?"
But Dickson didn't answer her. He grabbed Liam by the shirt and yanked him away without warning.
"Come here. Come here now," he hissed, dragging Liam toward the far end of the hall like a panicked cartoon character. Liam didn't resist, just raised an eyebrow as he let himself be pulled away.
Lilith stared after them, eyebrows creased. "What the hell is wrong with him?"
