“You conspired with my mother to steal from me,” his expression was unreadable, his voice devoid of any emotion.
“Yes. I-I mean No,” I swallowed. My heart raced, I clasped my hands behind my back so he wouldn’t see that they shook. It had all been Luna Evelyn’s idea, but I had to face his wrath on my own. I’d never stolen a thing in my life, but I’d been accused once and it took months for the scar I received after a thorough beating to heal. I was only in middle school then, and even when the item I was accused of stealing was retrieved from the real thief, I didn’t get any apologies or compensation from the teacher who had designed my back with strokes.
I clutched the table behind me and leaned against it for support. Goosebumps started to climb up my skin when he looked me over, head
