Dylan glanced at him. His cold, natural composure carried quiet authority.
Zayne shifted uneasily and snapped loudly, "What are you staring at?"
Dylan smiled gently. "You're a minor, but you're over fourteen. You probably haven't kept up with the laws. The minimum age for criminal charges is now fourteen. We can hold you responsible. Three hundred thousand dollars means nothing to my client, but it's a mountain of debt for you."
He spoke the sharpest words with the softest look.
Zayne froze. Panic flashed in his eyes. He looked at the officer as if begging for proof.
Dylan went on, "You don't have parents, but you have a whole life ahead. You'd be paying that money back for years. The internet never forgets. That stain will follow you everywhere."
He leaned in and whispered something
