“I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU told,” Nahtaia huffed for the third time in the few moments they sat in Moriel’s office.
“I told you I would,” Oren replied from behind.
“You think I believed you?”
He let out a loud, long sigh and stood in front of her, leaning on the minister’s desk. Nahtaia refused to look at him as she smoothed her hands over the wrinkling dress.
“It would be wise to start,” he said. “Nahtaia, we’re not kids anymore. Not everything is a joke.”
Before he could go on, the door opened, revealing an angry Minister Moriel. One look at the dress Nahtaia wore, and his jaw clenched. There was a stiff, controlled air to his walk, as if using every bit of strength not to explode into a fit of rage.
He sat down and folded his hands as he always did, then raised empty eyes to Nahtaia.
H
