Clay stands up as well, putting a hand on David's arm but without curling his fingers. Just a flat palm resting against David's arm.

I know. I know what he is. I can smell it. But telling her that won't help. I already have. If he hasn't hurt her she won't listen. She'll believe, she'll be chocked. But she won't listen.

If David looks close enough he'll be able to tell that Clay is terrified.