Chapter 155: Cattles At A Slaughter House

CLARK POV

At the party, as people drank and danced, I sat there like a ghost in the corner—rigid, silent, clutching a plastic cup of something I hadn’t dared to sip. The music throbbed through the walls, through my bones, but I wasn’t feeling the beat. I was too busy watching shadows stretch and shrink across the floor, flickering with the disco lights.