Chapter 5

In the memory, my expression was complicated, caught between doubt and hesitation.

"I don't hate you," I had said. "I'm just not used to any of this."

"Then please take this, okay?"

She offered the pouch again, her eyes glossy with unshed tears.

I hesitated for a long time before finally reaching out.

The moment my fingers touched the pouch, Lucia suddenly let go.

It dropped to the floor. Gray powder scattered across the stone.

Something else fell out with it.

A silver stone the size of a robin's egg rolled across the floor, glowing softly under the moonlight.

A gasp rippled through the crowd watching the memory.

"That's a moonstone!" someone shouted. "Ms. Lucia's mother's keepsake!"

In the memory, Lucia's expression changed instantly.

"My moonstone..." Her voice trembled. "Why is it... Lyla, when did you take it?"

I froze. "I didn't."

"But it fell out of your bag." She stepped back, eyes filling with hurt.

I bent down to pick it up. "You handed me the pouch. How would I know—"

"Don't touch it!" she screamed.

The door opened at that exact moment.

My father stood in the doorway with Caleb behind him.

"What's going on?" my father asked, frowning.

Lucia turned and rushed into his arms, tears spilling instantly.

"Dad, my moonstone disappeared. I searched all day, and then... it showed up with Lyla..."

Her shoulders shook as she cried, voice breaking.

"I just wanted to bring her something to help her sleep. I don't understand how this happened..."

My father looked at me.

The stone was still in my hand.

"Lyla, explain yourself."

"The pouch came from her," I said calmly. "She let go while I was taking it. The stone fell out. I don't know why it was inside."

Caleb spoke, "Why would Lucia frame you using something her mother left her?"

"I don't know," I said. "But it came from the pouch she handed me."

My father stared at me for a long time.

Then he said, "Give the stone back to Lucia."

I handed it over.

Lucia clutched the stone tightly, tears still falling. Her voice trembled as she spoke, "Lyla, this is the only thing my mother left me. If you wanted it, you could've just asked..."

"What are you even crying for?" My voice began to shake, anger slipping through. "Why put on this act? Why?"

She cried harder, clinging to my father as if she'd been wronged beyond repair.

"Dad..."

She didn't need to say anything else. A few tears were enough to tilt everything in her favor.

My father closed his eyes and took a slow breath.

He said to me after opening them again, "Apologize."

I went still. "What?"

"Apologize to Lucia. Then return to your room. You're grounded for three days."

"I didn't do anything wrong!" I raised my voice. "She set me up!"

The memory froze there.

The projection in the sky slowly faded away.

My father lowered his gaze from the fading image and looked at me.

"This is the innocence you claim?"

"That was a setup," I said, my voice dry.

Russ spoke again. "Why would Lucia risk her mother's keepsake just to frame someone who poses no threat to her?"

"Because she was afraid of the prophecy—"

"Enough with the prophecy!" my father snapped. "Do you have anything else to say?"

I clenched my jaw.

Caleb spoke next, "If you were innocent, why didn't you fight harder back then?"

I froze.

Why?

Because in that moment, watching my father hold a crying Lucia, I understood something clearly.

Nothing I said would matter.

The answer had been obvious.

"Can't answer?" my father said, disappointment heavy in his voice. "Because you knew you were wrong even then?"

"No."

I lifted my head and met his eyes.

"Because I already knew you wouldn't believe me, no matter what I said."

His expression stiffened for a brief second.

"Alpha," Russ said, "this memory doesn't reveal who her accomplices are."

"I know," my father replied. "Continue."

The instant he finished speaking, the collar around my neck tightened violently.

Pain struck like lightning, tearing through my consciousness.

The sky flared again.

Before the image even fully formed, I heard my own trembling voice echoing out.

"I really didn't touch that dress..."