"So you saw that guy fully spread eagle?"
"Bloody eagle, Lych, like the torture method the vikings were doing."
"I have no idea what you are talking about. I failed history."
My chest locked up first.
Not a slow build—just a full stop, like someone flipped a switch.
My lungs forgot how to work. Palms sweating. Nails digging into my thighs.
Everything too loud, too bright, too fast.
I stared at the ground because looking anywhere else felt like peeling off skin.
Couldn't move.
Just sat there counting cracks in the floor like they'd anchor me.
They didn't.
Lych was looking at me confused. Of course. Perfect timing, as always.
I didn't look up. Didn't want to. My heartbeat was sprinting like it had something to prove and my vision was already narrowing.
He hovered.
That was his thing.
Just stood there, waiting, like I was supposed to explain. I wasn't.
