Page 100 of Brutal Prince

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My questfor answers is met with failure. As soon as I’m back home, I try calling Addy.

Her phone is off.

Screw this. Have car, will drive.

But before I’ve gone more than a foot out of the front door, Marigold’s imperious voice brings me up short.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

I haven’t even bothered to change out of my uniform yet. I adjust my blazer, facing down Marigold as best as I can. “Out.”

Marigold lets out an unpleasant chuckle. “Not a chance, young lady. One of your teachers called a few minutes ago. Said you have something for me?”

She holds out her hand. The other’s gripping the edge of her golden cigarette holder.

I never even knew she smoked, now she’s a chain-smoker?

“I don’t know what you’re—”

She clicks her fingers at me like I’m a dog, and I bite off the rest of my pathetic excuse.

I storm up to her, rip my detention slip from my pocket, and hold it out for her to take.

She snatches it from me, drags at her cigarette as she scans it, and then hands it back.

“You should have gotten two weeks.”

My shoulders slump. I shake my head and open my mouth, but she beats me to it.

“Go upstairs and get ready for bed.”

“I’m going out,” I say slowly, in case she’s already going senile.

“You’re grounded.”

My mouth falls open. “You can’t ground me.”

Marigold tilts her head. “Really? Did I miss a few months and not realize you’ve turned eighteen already?”

I bite so hard at my bottom lip, a piece of skin comes off. I swallow it down, grimace at Marigold, and storm upstairs.