Freya's POV
The tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife. Freja paced restlessly back and forth, her arms crossed tightly over her chest as she let out an exasperated sigh for what had to be the tenth time in the past few minutes. The frustration in her eyes was impossible to ignore.
"Where the hell is Steven?!" she snapped, her voice laced with barely contained anger. Each step she took on the wooden floor echoed throughout the room, adding to the growing tension.
I had been leaning against the wall, my arms crossed as I turned towards Liam, who had been standing silent beside me. His face wasn't different from its usual impassive look, but somehow, his posture seemed to relay a tinge of guiltiness. My eyebrows furrowed as I turned toward him.
"Are you absolutely sure you told him that Maya escaped?" I asked, making sure my voice was firm, yet not blaming. This really wasn't a mistake Steven would make, and I needed to make sure this wasn't just some sort of misunder
