Chapter 3
Page 5
“Shut up,” Michaelsen orders me. “Just shut up and come with me.”
“Where’s Hansen?” I ask him, hoping that she’ll be a bit more understanding than him.
“She’s gone,” Michaelsen barks, eying the gold necklace on my throat. “You’ll never see her again. You don’t deserve her.”
“Can’t you be a little nicer to me? My grandmother just died, you know.”
Michaelsen pushes me out into the hallway, flips me around and cuffs me. “I have one more thing to do, then I’m out,” he tells me. “So listen up, kid. She’s not dead.”
“Not dead? But–” my voice breaks off as I suddenly realize what he meant by that. “She’s immortal.”
“Yes, but she can be punished and still has to adhere to the Law.”
“What Law?”
Michaelsen ignores my question and escorts me out of the building back into the squad car. Opening the door, he gestures that I should get inside.
“Why should I listen to you?” I ask him, frustrated that my grandmother had to pay such a hefty price to tell me what was going on. “Are you taking me to prison?”
“No, unfortunately,” Michaelsen shakes his head. I can’t help but wonder how he came to be a part of the magical community, he seems like such an ordinary guy. Was he born into it like I supposedly was? “Your grandmother asked me to take you to the zoo. After that? You’re on your own.”
I guess my grandmother must mean a lot to this guy. To him, I was a criminal who was supposed to remain punished and my family–the only one I know I have–risks life and limb to tell me the truth. Some granddaughter I am.
Once I get in the squad car, I try to be as quiet as I possibly can. Michaelsen must have noticed what I was doing, because he kept switching his gaze from looking at me in the rearview mirror and keeping his eyes on the road while he was driving.
“You know, Serafina, whoever drew that set of glyphs where we found you is probably still after you,” he said with a touch of concern.
“My name is Sophie, Officer Michaelsen. I appreciate you looking out for me, but if what my grandmother said is true–maybe I deserve it.” It felt good to be honest, as if telling the truth was the start of my absolution.
