Page 120 of Whispers of Wisteria
My breath caught. But we’d just gone over this. So why did it feel like I was in trouble again?
I picked at a fingernail and muttered, “I bewitched a bunch of groupies, ruined romantic dreams, probably started a revolution, and got punched in the face.”
Uncle Gregory did not look impressed. “And? Did anything else happen that you need to share?”
I tapped my finger against my chin and looked to the ceiling.
“No,” I answered. “Nothing important.”
“And you don’t think beingassaultedis important?” he asked sharply.
“Oh,” I replied. “Yeah, that.”
That’s right—Bryce’s little friend. I should let Bryce know about his dissatisfaction. Why hadn’t I thought to ask him his name?
How did Uncle Gregory know about that anyway?
He frowned.
I shrugged. “Well, it’s not like anything happened.”
He narrowed his eyes and asked, “Why didn’t you tell anyone?”
“I was going to go to Bryce,” I explained. “It was a message for him. But it wasn’t something I was thinking about.”
“You mean you forgotto go to Bryce?”
“Of course not, that’d be so irresponsible,” I said, somewhat offended. “I don’t forget things. It just wasn’t important because I was dealing withbeing punched in the face.”
“And the reason you didn’t tell anyone directly after it happened was because you decided that waiting around to give a message to Bryce was more important than being grabbed?” he asked.
I paused. What was with that impassive expression and strange manner of questioning? I knew this trick. He was doing some kind of psychological mumbo jumbo.
I was being diagnosed.
“No…” I said carefully, pressing my hands on the seat. He couldn’t fool me—I’d done nothing wrong. “I didn’t go because Anthony showed up and asked me to help with Miles. That’s why we went to the gymnasium in the first place.”
And then all the other drama had unfolded.
He was quiet for a moment, looking at me in a way that made me want to flee, and despite my best efforts to outlast him, I gave up.
“W-what?” I looked at the door. “If you’re done, I’m just going to—”
“What was the most alarming part of the encounter?” he interrupted. He crossed his arms on the desk.
Why? This was so stupid.
“I guess whatever Bryce is doing that makes everyone want to kill him,” I snapped. “You should probably look into that.”
“I probably should,” he replied calmly.
There was a gleam in his judgmental green eyes that made my hair stand, and I knew I’d just given him something to focus on. He seemed the type to be overbearingly obsessive, and Gloria, who hated the man, even admitted he was brilliant.
Bryce was doomed.
Crap! I’d just recently determined that I didn’t want Bryce to get into trouble, and now here I was, throwing him under the bus.
I was a terrible sister.
