Dylan didn't respond.
He simply leaned back slightly, his gaze cold as it rested on Karl —like a man observing an insect struggling before death.
Karl swallowed hard.
The air around him seemed to grow heavier with every passing second, pressing down on his chest. His palms turned clammy, and a thin layer of sweat formed on his forehead.
He didn't know how he was supposed to explain himself.
More importantly, he didn't know whether any explanation would even save him.
But right now, that was the only opportunity he could see.
A drowning man would grasp even a straw.
And that was the straw he had to cling to.
"Do you really think any explanation can help you?" Jasper scoffed from the side.
Karl turned to look at him as if staring at someone who had come to claim his life.
