Jefferson's POV
The silence that descended upon the room felt suffocating, pressing against my eardrums until my heartbeat thundered in the stillness. Malcolm's accusation bounced around my skull like a ricocheting bullet. Responsible? The word tasted bitter, absurd, yet it lingered in the air like smoke from a dying fire.
Elisabeth's voice sliced through the tension like a blade. "The man claimed Jefferson was responsible? That's complete garbage. Someone's obviously setting him up."
Her words carried a fierce certainty that caught me off guard, but Malcolm's attention shifted to her with predatory focus. "You're confident about that because you know him so intimately?" His voice dripped with mockery. "The man whose hands are stained with enough blood to drown an entire pack?"
