“Who are you talking about?” I pretended not to know.
“The outcasts,” he spat.
“Oh, you mean your very own son,” I shot back.
“Listen here, you little—”
"No, you listen to me. I won’t be manipulated, Josiah." I tried to push past him, but he grabbed my arm, leaning in closer.
"You should really watch what you say around here," he cautioned.
"Interesting, I was just about to give you the same advice," I replied, freeing my arm from his grip and making my way down the stairs.
That morning, Silas and I had breakfast alone, a rare chance for an open conversation. After Axel’s warning, I scrutinized Silas closely, searching for any concealed meanings in his words, but found none. He mainly asked about my life back home, and I kept my answers brief, reflecting on the hurt caused by my exp
