Nadia
From the doorway, the flash of a camera went off, accompanied by a soft shutter noise.
I jerked away at the sound. With my focus torn, the grip I’d had on Vincent’s stolen crest loosened. The carved stone slipped from my palm. Vincent caught it effortlessly.
“What was that?” I asked, no longer caring about the crest. “Was someone watching us?”
Vincent strode toward the door and peeked his head outside. Finding no one there, he pressed the door shut and shook his head.
“No one. It was probably nothing.”
“Why would someone—”
“I’ll handle it,” assured Vincent. He slipped his small family crest back into his pocket. “You don’t need to worry about it. Instead, you should spend more time taking care of yourself. Don’t get into anymore fights, and make sure you turn your essay in on
