Fear crawled through Abigail's body from the tips of her toes to the crown of her head like a thousand icy needles.
Her throat constricted as her gaze met Julie's.
There was no screaming, no wild movement—only that still, silent look that made Abigail's insides twist with dread.
Julie stood there, her posture deceptively calm, but her eyes—those eyes—were something else.
They burned with a quiet, deadly heat, the kind that didn't need words to make a person tremble.
From the other side, Ava was the first to recover. The shock that had frozen her a minute ago faded from her features, replaced by something sharper.
Her lips curved slightly, a dark smirk tugging at the corner as she studied Julie's expression. So that's what fury looks like when it's controlled.
"Ava," Julie said suddenly.
The sound of her name, low and firm, made Ava straighten immediately.
Julie's tone wasn't raised, but it carried the weight of authority—cold, poised, and dangerous.
