Spotlight

Chapter 33

Dr. Golding takes me to an interrogation room.

The tables are metal and there are two chairs on either side.

Arin is on one side, and Seb and Max are on the other.

Dr. Golding closes the door behind me.

"Really, Seb?" I ask. "Is the interrogation room necessary?"

"Sit down." He orders.

I sit next to Arin.

Uncle Max hands him back his phone.

They stare at both of us for a long time.

Finally, Seb asks. "What the hell did you two do?"

Arin stays silent.

"We didn't do anything." I insist. "This is ridiculous."

"Cassandra," Uncle Max looks like he's barely containing his anger. "I feel like you're not seeing this for what it is. We are not your Father and Uncle having a chat with you. We are the General and the Infante demanding answers for why you're helping insurgrnts."

"She tried to kill me," I yell. "She put me in a coma for five weeks, and physical therapy for two months. She would have killed me if Arin didn't show up when he did."

"Why you?" Seb asks. "That's what we wanted to know."

"Easy target?" I answer for them.

Seb produces a file from his lap. He opens it and lays the papers in front of us. It's Cara's files on Kaili, Delia, Enrich, and me.

I close my eyes briefly.

"That's why you wanted the page from the book," Seb asks. He bangs his fists on the table and I jump when he hits the table. "That was in January. It's been four months. Damn it, Cassandra.

"And I talked to Tristan." He adds. "Your magic has been bad since the Pledge. Why didn't you tell me?"

I can be honest. I can tell him about all my insecurities, all my fears. Confess my apprehension at being treated less in this family.

Or I can say the worst thing instead.

"I don't think telling the Infante my personal problems is very appropriate."

He gives me a hard look. "Do you know how much trouble the two of you are in?"

"Trouble for what exactly?" I ask. "It was a personal problem I had with my jewelry. And I got it solved."

"Except it's not just a piece of jewelry." This is Uncle Max.

"Yes, it's magic. We all know this." I roll my eyes.

"No." Uncle Max is livid. "Our intelligence team, an actually competent one, did extensive research." He points at the tiara. "And there's a reason Ryppers are willing to do so much to get it."

My head feels heavy.

My mouth is dry when I ask, "What's special about it?"

Seb laughs bitterly. "That's an answer you could have gotten months ago, if you talked to us." He's shaking his head. "Why couldn't you do it? Picked up your phone, called me, said "hey Seb, my magic is acting weird, can you take a look at that?" Would that have been so hard?"

I laugh shrilly. "That would have been hard because you never pick up your phone. And you never call me back. Never talk for more than two minutes."

"I..."

I cut him off. "One short call every few weeks won't make you father of the year."

Uncle Max clears his throat and arranges the papers. "Let's focus on why we're here." He taps one document. "The piece was first worn by Delia Beltane. She disappeared after her brother was killed."