CHAPTER SEVENTY-SIX

When I stepped on the other side, the council room came into view. All members of the council wore a cold mask. Even Commander Turner lacked the softness in his eyes. The lining of my stomach rumbled with dread as I stepped closer to the table.

"Good morning," I whispered.

"Phoebe Woods," Father said in a cold, commanding tone. "The council has called you today on the charges of theft, fraud and repeated disregard for the laws of Arth. Are you guilty of these charges?"

Unease settled in my stomach like a flock of butterflies flailing in a flood of guilt. I trembled under their hostile gaze. It would be useless to explain myself. Perhaps I should have done things differently.

Nodding, I looked my father in the eyes and said, "Yes."

"Do you accept whatever punishment the council passes on?"

"Yes." My teeth ground together, and blood rushed to my ears.

Father watched me for a moment, unwilling to reveal his true emotions. "You are hereby stripped of your position and powers," he sai