The sound of rapid, heavy footsteps echoed through the hallway, cutting through the noise like a blade. Instantly, everyone in the living room fell silent.
"He's coming," a female student whispered, her voice barely audible, more a breath than speech. The air turned thick, the tension palpable.
Of course, they had heard the argument, a heated exchange spilling from one of the bedrooms inside the house. Fred's voice had been unmistakably loud, sharp with frustration, almost desperate.
Then, just as expected, Merek strode past the door leading to the living room, not sparing the students inside a single glance. His coat swayed with his steps, the cold steel of his presence unsettling even in silence. He moved like a shadow with weight, controlled and calm.
He headed straight toward the bedroom at the far end, the one that had been converted into a makeshift meeting chamber, the place where the leaders of the group were gathered.
