When Lil had arrived, she’d sized up the situation with a sour expression: sit in the front, near Dan, or in the back, near me. She’d chosen the middle, and to concentrate on Dan I had to tear my eyes away from the sweat glistening on her long, pale neck.
Dan stalked the aisles like a preacher, eyes blazing. “They’re stealing your future! They’re stealing your past! They claim they’ve got your support!”
He lowered his tone. “I don’t think that’s true.” He grabbed a castmember by her hand and looked into her eyes. “Is it true?” he said so low it was almost a whisper.
“No,” the castmember said.
He dropped her hand and whirled to face another castmember. “Is it true?” he demanded, raising his voice, slightly.
“No!” the castmember said, his voice unnaturally loud after the whispers. A nervous chuckle rippled through the crowd.
“Is it true?” he said, striding to the podium, shouting now.
“No!” the crowd roared.
“NO!” he shouted back.
“You don’t have to roll over and take it! You can fight back, carry on with the plan, send them packing. They’re only taking over because you’re letting them. Are you going to let them?”