Malcolm Bright

Neal hesitates still, wanting to argue that there’s even more reason to find Miss Windsor if she’s the one trying to burn the place down. “But—”

“Come on,” Ainsley gasps, grabbing Neal’s arm and practically dragging him along. She’s stronger than she looks, but then, so is Malcolm.

“We have to stop her.” It’s a feeble protest, and he doesn’t pull away from Ainsley’s grip.