Margot’s lips trembled as she stammered, “If this… dog really belongs to the Fitzgeralds, then how could it be in her hands?” Her eyes lit up with malice as she pointed at me. “You! You better tell the truth! Did you steal this dog? Not only did you sneak into the Fitzgerald estate, but you also dared to steal Mrs. Fitzgerald’s dog?” she spat venomously. “You’re finished! There’s no saving you now!”
I couldn’t be bothered to argue with her absurd accusations. Margot clearly thought she had me pegged as some bumpkin from the countryside, incapable of having any connection to the Fitzgeralds. To her, I was nothing more than a thief.
Her baseless accusations seemed to ignite a spark in the group. After a brief pause, several of them sighed in relief, as though finding their courage in Margot's words and began to chime in.
“Margot’s right. Just look at her—she definitely looks like she’s up to no good!”
“Margot was only trying to protect the dog, but instead, that dog bit her!”
“We can’t let her walk away with Mrs. Fitzgerald’s dog. The Fitzgeralds would never forgive her!”