#Chapter70 "I wasn't talking about Luther."

"It's Tristan, isn't it?"

My words hang in the air, answered and almost suffocating. There has been a shift in the atmosphere, the sounds of life outside the walls of my room are drained out by the palpable silence. Even breathing is a difficult task to do at this moment.

No one dares to answer my question. Their tongues are twisted, their eyes filled with fear and hesitation, and their bodies stand as rigid as statues. Jordan then gulps with nervousness, tearing the border of silence.

Their silence is my answer. My prediction is correct in their lack of speech. I nod my head...