Breathing became increasingly difficult for Ewan, especially with the intense glares directed at him from all angles—including those of the elders.
What has he done? He wondered, suppressing the anger he felt toward his friends. Hadn't they tried to warn him earlier? Yet here he was, having chosen to believe a foolhardy hacker.
He gripped his knees tightly, forcing himself to take a deep breath to alleviate the throbbing ache in his head.
He stole a glance at Fiona, and frowned when he saw her scratching her inner palms—a clear sign of her nervousness for him.
Ewan sighed softly, tilting his head toward her, and whispered, "Don't worry about me; everything will be fine."
Fiona managed a pitiful nod. "I hope so. I hope you win custody of the children."
