Gerald's POV
A heavy exhale escaped my lips as I pressed both palms against my skull, fingers digging into the tension that had been building there for hours. My mind was a whirlwind of scattered thoughts, each one more unsettling than the last.
"I had no idea about any of that," I admitted, my voice coming out harsher than I meant it to. "But that's not what's eating at me right now."
Owen's expression sharpened, his gaze studying my face with the intensity of someone who knew me well enough to recognize when something was seriously wrong. "So what's really bothering you?"
There it was. The question I'd been avoiding asking myself for the better part of the day.
I found myself staring at the carpet beneath my feet, as if the answer might somehow be hidden in its weave. I couldn't afford to let my imagination run wild when I didn't have concrete evidence to back up my suspicions.
