The silence stretched. Lydia slowly lifted her face, and even without her saying anything yet, I knew something was about to snap. Her voice came out quieter than usual, but it didn't shake.
"It was me," she said, her eyes locked on Damon's feet. "I gave Ember the cloak."
My heart stilled from fear, it was true they had given me the cloak. But they did this because of me, because they cared for me. My breath hitched.
Damon's gaze sharpened. "And where did you get a witch's cloak from?" His tone dropped an octave, so low it nearly echoed off the stone walls. Even Alaric stiffened beside him.
Lydia's lips trembled. She didn't speak. Couldn't. Her silence screamed louder than any confession.
I looked at her, panic rising in my chest. 'No, no, no… this is getting out of hand. I need to do something about it.'
Damon took a slow step forward. "Answer me, Lydia. Where did you get it?"
