Jessamine
I didn’t try to run. I didn’t have it in me to. When I return to Darrock, he’s sorting through my bag, looking for Goddess knows what. I proceed to where he stands, attempting to snatch it from his grasp, but he holds it up, above his head, well aware that I’m too short to reach.
Not. He’s just a tall moron with red eyes and a stupid attitude.
He pulls out my locket and peers at it with interest.
“Give that back.”
He slips it into his pocket, ignoring me, and he pulls out my mother’s journal next. I lunge for him, snarling. Not the journal. That is private. He opens it and it violates my mother’s most private thoughts. Only two people have the right to those words. Me and my father. The latter is dead, in mother’s words. “That’s mine,” I rage, pouncing on him.
Darrock plu
