Page 45 of Saving Little Lina: Part Two

However, as dawn broke and the reality of our actions began to set in, my thoughts were a mix of anticipation and apprehension. Waking up late the next morning to the sound of Kristen's distressed cries was not part of the plan. My heart sank as I realized the potential consequences of our nighttime escapades. Crawling down the stairs with Mike, we exchanged nervous glances, the gravity of the situation dawning on us.

"What have we done?" I whispered to Mike, my voice tinged with regret. "I thought it would be funny, but hearing her like this... it feels wrong."

Mike nodded, his usual confidence replaced by a similar sense of unease. "Yeah, I didn't think it would hit her this hard. We just wanted to make a point, not... not make her cry."

As we entered the living room, the sight that greeted us was heartrending. Kristen, usually so composed and aloof, was inconsolable, her tears a stark contrast to the image of indifference she often projected. Uncle Joe and Daddy were at her side, their attempts to comfort her a clear indication of the depth of her distress.

Kristen's distress over Mr. Cuddles' supposed "injury" turned the living room into a theater of the absurd. She was utterly convinced that a wild raccoon was the assailant, having somehow infiltrated the house to attack her beloved stuffie. As I glanced at the stuffie, even I had to admit, the fake blood we'd used was unsettlingly realistic.

In an attempt to divert attention from our guilt, Mike launched into a fantastical explanation. "You see, it wasn't a raccoon," he began, his voice grave, yet his eyes twinkling withmischief. "Last night, I heard whispers of the legendary ninja squirrels of South Beach. They're known for their stealth and love of shiny objects... and apparently, tiger stuffies. It's a well-known fact among the local squirrel population that Mr. Cuddles holds the key to the lost acorn treasure."

Elijah and I struggled to maintain our composure as Mike wove his elaborate tale, our feigned shock and sympathy barely masking the laughter threatening to break through. "Yes, yes, and I believe they mistook Mr. Cuddles for their ancient squirrel king, returned to lead them to glory," I added, deepening the narrative with a solemn nod.

Daddy, witnessing our performance, couldn't help but express his skepticism. "Quite the imagination on you three. Ninja squirrels, you say?" he remarked, his voice laced with disbelief.

The discovery of sand in Kristen's shoes next only added fuel to the fire. Her reaction, a mix of shock and anger, was met with our innocent expressions of surprise. Mike, seizing the opportunity to add another layer to our deception, suggested, "Or perhaps a sand monster, drawn by the scent of beach vacations, decided your shoes were the perfect sandbox."

Joe's questioning look at Mike's outlandish theory hinted at his growing suspicion of our involvement, but no accusations were made.

Kristen's distress escalated when she discovered her porcelain dolls replaced by stuffed toys. Her scream of horror echoed through the house as she lamented the loss of dolls she claimed were a gift from a royal family wishing to remain anonymous. Mike, unable to resist, pointed out the inconsistency in her story. "But last time, wasn't it your great-great-grandmother who gifted them to you on her deathbed?" he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Annoyed and flustered, Kristen dismissed the discrepancy. "The details don't matter. What matters is they're gone!"

Mike, ever the performer, launched into a sympathy speech that he had prepared, though his execution left much to be desired.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Mike began, his voice oozing with a sincerity that didn't quite reach his eyes, "we find ourselves amidst a tragedy of unspeakable proportions." He paused, a dramatic flourish that would have been more effective had he not immediately followed it with, "Lina, line?"

I leaned in, whispering the next part of his speech, trying to keep our charade from falling apart. "The loss we witness today strikes at the very heart of our collective joy."

"Ah, yes," Mike continued, nodding gravely. "The loss we witness today strikes at the very heart of our collective joy. Such devastation rends the fabric of our familial tapestry, leaving us to pick up the threads of our shattered..." He trailed off, looking my way again. "Lina, line?"

Uncle Joe, having watched this exchange with a mix of amusement and disbelief, couldn't hold back. "Really, Mike? You won't even try to act innocent? Asking for lines isn't exactly subtle."

Mike, undeterred by his Daddy’s skepticism, launched into a bold declaration of innocence. "I must always be prepared with a speech, for it seems I am the first to be accused in any unforeseen situation, guilty of no crime other than being too cute," he proclaimed, his chest puffing out in mock indignation.

Joe's retort was swift and dripping with sarcasm. "Ah, yes, the curse of cuteness. It's a wonder you manage to sleep at night with such a heavy burden."

Undaunted, Mike pressed on with his theory. "But let us consider the real culprit, the elusive Doll Goblin, known far and wide for its insatiable lust for porcelain dolls. It is entirely possible that such a creature invaded our abode, replacing Kristen's treasures with mere toys in its quest for beauty."

Kristen, who had been listening with growing impatience, snorted. "A Doll Goblin? Really? I wasn't born yesterday."

Despite her skepticism, Mike stood firm. "The Doll Goblin is a crafty and cunning creature. Its actions are beyond our understanding."

Joe's suspicious gaze never wavered from Mike, his expression clearly indicating he wasn't fooled by the elaborate ruse.

Kristen, growing increasingly frustrated, accused us directly. "I know it was you three. You did this to get back at me for the rumors at the club," she said, her voice tinged with accusation.

"Why would they do that, Kristen?" Daddy interjected, seeking clarity.

Kristen blurted out, "Because I was the one who started those baseless rumors about Mike and Lina!"

The room fell silent as her admission hung in the air. Mike's coy smile broadened, and in that moment, Kristen understood that she had inadvertently confessed to her misdeeds.

Caught in the web of her own making, she attempted to retract her admission, but Mike seized the moment with a fervor born of genuine hurt. "The real crime here isn't just the prank, but the baseless rumors about us. We're the victims here," he declared, his voice carrying a mix of indignation and a plea for justice.

Uncle Joe, ever the voice of reason, assured us that Kristen's actions would not go unnoticed. "We'll deal with Kristen's doings later, when her Daddy is here tomorrow," he stated, his tone firm yet fair, acknowledging the need for due process in disciplining Kristen.

However, Mike's sense of injustice wasn't easily placated. "Corner time, right now. She needs to learn her lesson immediately," he insisted, his demand for immediate retribution clear in his voice.

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