“People like her grow up taking what isn’t theirs. Filthy habits, no upbringing—it’s pathetic, really.”
“Why don’t we search her? Make sure she doesn’t run off.”
A few male guests stepped forward, ready to grab me.
I yanked my arm free in disgust. Just as I was about to speak, Zamora’s soft, tearful voice broke through.
“Don’t do this. Maybe she just made a mistake… once.”
But that “kind” attempt of her to defend me only poured oil on the fire.
“Shut up,” I snapped coldly. “I’ll say it again. I didn’t steal your necklace.”
Her eyes reddened, her voice trembling as she choked out, “Issy… that necklace was a birthday gift from my dad. It’s really precious. If you like jewelry, I can give you something else. But could you please return that one to me?”
The gentler her tone, the more it sounded like she was shielding me out of pity.
One of her friends exploded. “You still won’t admit it, you filthy thief? You’ve got no parents to raise you right, so you’re jealous Zamora has a real family, huh?”
Face darkening, I pulled out my phone, ready to call someone to check the surveillance footage.
But before I could dial, a shadow fell over me.