Behind him, Travis slurred, “Well? Collect.”
Dean stepped inside and quietly closed the door.
Five minutes later, it opened again.
Dean walked out pale as death, hands trembling, face drained of all color.
The entire party froze.
Travis straightened, confused. “What the hell happened?”
Dean looked at him like he was seeing him for the first time.
Then Naomi’s voice came from inside the room, calm and cold enough to chill everyone listening:
“You might want to tell them what you’ve been hiding, Travis. Or I will.”
For several long seconds, no one in the hallway moved.
The music from the living room kept playing, absurdly cheerful against the silence that had taken over the house. Dean stood near the door like he might be sick. Travis stared at him, irritation shifting into suspicion.
