Alan's voice carried softly in the dark, low and steady, yet there was a faint trace of amusement beneath it. "Getting scared?"
Amelia tightened her grip on his hand before she even realized what she was doing. Her knuckles pressed white against his skin.
"Yeah, right," she muttered quickly, her tone attempting confidence, though it failed miserably.
Alan did not pull his hand away. If anything, the small twitch at the corner of his lips suggested he had no desire to break free from her hold.
Amelia cleared her throat, desperate for an excuse. "I am just checking how wrong these props are. Look at that skeleton. The proportions are completely unrealistic, and the movement is stiff and fake."
The words tumbled out far too fast, and even she knew it sounded ridiculous.
