For a moment, I stared at Camille across the living room, her expression a mixture of fury and concern that made me acutely aware of how I should respond. The automatic analysis was still there – I could read the tension in her posture, the way her hands were clenched at her sides – but it felt more manageable now, like background noise rather than a deafening roar.
Then I felt something change beneath me. Sienna's blood pressure was rising, her breathing becoming slightly more rapid. The subtle shift in her body temperature told me she was getting stressed by the confrontation building between Camille and me. That realization cut through everything else.
I sat up immediately, swinging my legs off the couch. I had made a promise to all of them – no more secrets, no more hiding dangerous situations to protect them from worry. They deserved to know the truth, even if it caused them distress.
