Sarah and Bryan simultaneously looked up at the sky as if they had just watched someone walk toward a cliff edge with a blindfold on.
Behind Neville, Grayson's gaze could have bored holes through Neville's head.
The temperature in this tropical place felt like it had dropped by several degrees.
Iris was the one who tried again.
"Dear Hope," she said, and the gentleness in her voice was the kind reserved for those delivering difficult news. "I know you want to make friends with other people. That's perfectly natural. But that's not the right place for it."
Neville furrowed his eyebrows. "Why not?"
Bryan leaned his head back. "Trust me. You don't want to be at one of those events. It's a mess."
Something about the weary certainty in Bryan's tone pinged Neville's curiosity.
He raised an eyebrow and asked, "You've been to one?"
Bryan's poker face held, but just barely. "At my age, I had to."
