Damon's POV
The clock indicated I still had time before picking up Maya, but something inside me screamed to go get her early. With all the recent threats, my uneasiness about her attending evening classes had intensified. College campuses had too many blind spots, too many vulnerabilities—even with a patrol car stationed at the entrance.
I sat in the living room, face buried in my hands, trying to contain my growing anxiety when Lana approached.
"What's eating at you, big brother?" she asked, hands planted firmly on her hips.
I looked up at her. "Nothing. Why?"
"Because you're sighing like a deflating balloon and your jaw's clenched tight enough to crack walnuts."
Lana settled beside me, her eyes searching mine.
"It's this whole situation with Maya," I confessed. "Her going to college at night, the lingering threat from our case... I'm worried sick."
