"Why are we here? What is the emergency situation…" Old Mr. Thorne finally broke the silence when it became clear that Isaac had no intention of doing so anytime soon.
Even as he spoke, he wondered if the quiet itself was a tactic—if Isaac, cunning as he had always been, was deliberately playing chess while everyone else waited for checkers.
Isaac sighed, long and heavy, as though waking from a deep, unpleasant sleep. Then he lifted one crooked finger and pointed it directly at Esme.
"Confess."
All attention snapped to Esme.
Her head was still bowed, her neck aching from the prolonged position, muscles screaming from the strain. Tears continued to stream down her face, dripping onto her clasped hands, darkening the fabric of her dress.
But she didn't speak.
"Didn't you hear?" Levi shouted suddenly, his voice cutting through the room.
