It's as if invisible fingers were encircling her throat, squeezing all air out of Allison, and it went to her head. She wanted to curse her self for agreeing to the lunch, still unable to move under her father's watchful stare.
The hunter had always found a way to get through, to survive and she knew sitting here, waiting for something to happen, wasn't the way to do that. But the thing was, for the first time, Allison didn't know what to do, and she had no idea about what's happening or why her father was so adamant about this lunch.
Since they had begun their meal, the temperature in the dining room felt hotter. Or maybe it's just her. The clothes on her body started to feel a little warm, clinging to her skin. In an effort to cool down, she tied her hair back with a silk scrunchie,
