Margaret looked up, face streaked with tears, then pointed at Aziel with a trembling hand.
“Him,” she whispered. “He did it. He killed Armie…”
I blinked, stunned. “What?!”
Hakeem turned to me, his voice a low growl. “What the hell did she just say?”
Margaret sniffled, pulled herself up, holding something in her hand a shattered ceramic dish from the tank. “I saw it. He reached in when I stepped out. Started smashing. I tried to stop him, but it was too late.”
“No!” I snapped, stepping between them. “He wouldn’t. Aziel wouldn’t hurt anything. He doesn’t even step on ants. He covers his ears when people yell. You’re lying.”
Margaret looked at me like I just confessed to the murder myself. “He has episodes, doesn’t he? You told me that. He didn’t understand what he was doing. He snapped.” Margaret clung to Hakeem's arm, fake-sobbing. “That snake was my only comfort, Hakeem… and she let him kill it.”
He stared at me. Not with rage. With disappointment.
“Your brother murdered her therapy animal.”
“No, Hakeem, please, he didn’t! How can an eight years old kid—”
“You’ve fucked up again, sweetheart.” Then he nodded once to the guards. “Teach the boy a lesson.”