At that moment, the entire room seemed to hold its breath.
Every pair of eyes turned toward Jerry, waiting, watching.
Damien's question still hung in the air, sharp and pressing, If it wasn't Owen... then who did it?
For a second, Jerry just stood there, relaxed, his expression unreadable.
It was as if the tension didn't even touch him.
Immediately he opened his mouth, ready to say something, ready to drop a truth that would leave the whole room spinning—But before he could get a word out,
At that moment Abigail quickly stepped in.
She placed a hand lightly on Jerry's arm, her grip firm but pleading.
"Jerry, that's enough," she said quietly but urgently.
"I don't like where this is going."
Her voice was steady, but anyone who knew her well would have seen the slight tremble in her hands.
"I really don't like this direction," she added, glancing around at the crowd.
"It's not worth it."
At that moment there was a mix of frustration and fear in her voice.
She hated drama.
