The door creaks open before either of us can breathe.
Elliot's voice slips into the cramped room like smoke. "Noah, I heard what happened—are you okay?"
He freezes when he sees us—me crouched in front of Noah, Noah's cheeks still wet, his hands still trembling, the cracked phone screen dim in his lap.
He frowns deeply, "Am I interrupting something?"
His tone is light. Too light. Like he hasn't ever backed me against a shower wall. Like he hasn't bared his teeth at me or touched me like he had a right to.
Noah straightens, wipes his face quickly. "I'm fine now. Logan was just keeping me company."
Elliot's eyes shift to me. "How nice of him."
There's nothing in his voice. No bite. No venom. Just a vague pleasantness that would fool anyone who didn't know what I do.
But I know the monster under the sheep's wool.
Noah rises to his feet and glances at me. "I was just about leaving. Logan wanted to tell me something."
Elliot tilts his head at me, his eyes unreadable. "Well?"
