“
Dad was standing in front of the big windows when I got to the library, his hands clasped behind his back in the classic "I am so disappointed in my offspring" pose.
"Dad? Um,Lara said you wanted to see me."
He turned around, his mouth a hard line. "Yes.Did you have a nice time with Daisy and Nick last night?"
I fought the urge to reach into my pocket and touch the coin. "Not particularly."
He didn't say anything, so we just stared at each other until I started feeling fidgety. "Look, if you're going to punish me, I'd really rather just get it over with."
Dad kept staring. "Would you like to know how I spent my evening? Well, not evening, really, so much as very early morning hours."
Inwardly, I groaned. Mrs. Casnoff sometimes pulled this maneuver: she'd say she wasn't mad, and then proceeded to list all the ways my screwup had inconvenience her. Maybe they taught it at those fancy schools nonreject Prodigium got to go to. "Sure."
"I spent those hours on the phone. Do you know with whom?"
"One of those psychic hotlines?"
Dad gritted his teeth. "If only. No, I was busy assuring no less than thiry influential witches, warlocks, shifters, and faeries that surely, my daughter-the future head of the Council, I should add-had not injured over a dozen innocent Prodigum while attempting to escape a nightclub during a raid by L'Occhio di Dio."
"I didn't hurt them!" I exclaimed. Then I remembered just how hard they had hit the wall, and winced. "Well, not on purpose," I amended.
”
”