“WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?” she screamed at Damon. “You dare lay a hand on my seventy-eight-year-old father and then stand here acting like you're the victim?”
Damon froze.
“What are you talking about?”
“I saw the mark on his arm when I came in!” Evelyn snapped, pointing at Walter. “He called me before I arrived. He told me exactly what happened!”
The woman in yellow suddenly stopped crying.
Only for a second.
But Evelyn noticed.
Damon's expression hardened. “Your father is the one who frightened her!”
Evelyn let out a bitter laugh.
“Really? Then why did you tell everyone to throw him out before you even asked him what happened?”
“Because she told me what he did!”
“And you believed every word without question?”
Damon's jaw tightened.
“Watch your mouth.”
“Or what?” Evelyn challenged, stepping closer. “You'll shout at me, too? You think wearing an expensive suit makes you the judge of everyone in this room?”
The woman in yellow hurried to Damon's side, clutching his arm.
“Damon, please, don't let her intimidate you. Her father is dangerous. You don't know what he tried to do to me.”
Walter finally turned toward her.
His eyes were calm.
Far too calm.
“Are you certain,” he asked quietly, “that you want to continue telling that story?”
The woman's fingers tightened around Damon's sleeve.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
Walter took one measured step forward.
“I mean that once the truth comes out, you won't be able to take back a single word.”
Damon scoffed.
“Enough with the threats, old man!”
He moved toward Walter, but Evelyn immediately blocked his path.
“Don't you dare touch him!”
For a moment, nobody moved.
Then Walter slowly raised his right hand.
He extended one finger and pointed—not at Damon, and not at Evelyn.
He pointed directly at the woman in yellow.
Her face changed instantly.
The tears stopped.
Her lips parted, but no sound came out.
Walter's voice remained soft.
“Look up.”
Damon frowned.
“What?”
Walter didn't take his eyes off the woman.
“I said, look up.”