“Leave that alone.”
“Why?”
“Why do you want to see it?” Seth asked.
“I didn’t see it properly just now.”
“It isn’t pretty.”
“I think it’s supposed to be me.”
“It is.”
Clary pushed the corners of her lips down.
“There’s no need for you to see it.”
She sighed again and nodded, then turned back toward her desk. “Nothing good came out of reading the threats anyway.”
Seth kneeled down next to the rubber head and brushed his thumb against the cheek, revealing deep gashes made in the face. “Anyone mentioned slashing your face or cutting your hair?”
Her eyes widened. “The mannequin’s face has been slashed?” She strode toward him again, but stopped when he frowned.
“Yes.”
Clary ran her hand through her hair. “Yes. One of the first few I got.” Her eyes slid to the side, and her gaze turned faraway.
“And?”
Her attention jerked back to him, and she shook her head after a moment. “I’m sure it’s nothing.”
“You don’t look all that sure.”
Her tongue darted across her lips.
“Do you know who could be behind this?”
“I thought it was Hugh.”
“You don’t seem that sure about it.”
“It’s a childish enough stunt for him to pull.” Her lower lip disappeared between her teeth, and she headed toward a box sitting in the far corner of the room.
“But?” Seth dropped the head back into its box.
He liked the idea of it being Hugh, because there was one thing he was sure of about the Eolenfelds: none of them would do anything to jeopardize their inheritance.
So Hugh wouldn’t truly hurt Clary.
But if it was anyone else …
“I don’t think he’s diligent enough to collect magazines, cut out words to form the threats, then glue them together and send them to me.” She opened the box and dug through it, taking out a few letters and opening them.
“Maybe, now that he’s out of a job, he has more than enough time to send threats and pull stupid stunts like this.”
“This one is printed.” She handed a letter to him. “That I can believe was from him.”
She continued looking through the stack of letters in the box.