Ethan felt it first, a pressure like hands pressing against his shoulders from both sides. His breath stalled. Without realizing, his fingers curled into the railing of the bleacher seating. Evan, seated beside him, leaned forward, his eyes locked on the court but even he had gone quiet. The noise, the lights, the chants… it all blurred around the two of them, as if the world had chosen to mute itself in respect or fear.
Down on the Chicago Raptors' bench, something was cracking.
It wasn't loud. It wasn't dramatic. No one screamed. No one threw a chair. It was quieter than that… more unsettling than any outburst could ever be.
