“What’s he doing here?” Ben asks when I return to the table. “Eating. Exactly like us," I snap, and immediately regret it. “Sorry.” Ben’s brows furrow. “I don’t like the way he looks at you.” “Like he’s going to kill me?” I mutter. “No.” He scowls. “Like he’s going to eat you.” His scowl deepens as he stares over my shoulder. “He’s watching you right now.”
