Chapter 3

I felt a grip squeeze my heart, and sadness hung over the atmosphere. And here we are, gathered at funeral ceremonies to bury the rest of Lucia's body.

For the first time, I see tears in my father's eyes, as if his age had doubled, and his weakness indicates how painful it is for him to lose them.

Blaming glances are directed at me like accusing fingers. I was thrown into the arms of my mother, who was old after this tragedy; her embrace is my safe refuge.

But why am I cold now?!

Do you also blame me for Lucia's death?!

She didn't say that in words, but her gaze at me said a lot.

I looked at Nikolai, afraid to see the same look of blame in his eyes, but he seemed detached from his surroundings, sad about the loss of his love.

The crowd dispersed after my father Set fire to the coffin floating on the water's surface, which contained my sister's remains.

My feet led me to where Nikolai was standing, and I spread out my hand apprehensively, patting him on the shoulder to get his attention.

I felt jealous when I saw tears streaming down his cheeks. I wanted to tell him the truth about her; she didn't deserve these tears. However, I backed away at the last minute. It's not permissible to delve into the biography of the dead. She left and buried her secret with her.

I murmured consolingly, "Take it easy, Nick; sadness is born big and disappears little by little."

He answered me in a snarling voice, "How can you understand what's in my heart? You're probably happy that she's dead."

His poisonous words fell on my head like a bucket of cold water. I said dryly, "Why do you see me so ugly? I'm not that heartless, Nick. I was deeply saddened by her death; after all, she's my sister. Whether we agree or disagree, blood is a bond that connects us."

His gaze on me became soft, and apparently my father didn't tell him what had happened. Although he holds me responsible, he feels remorse. If he had believed me then and acted up, Lucia would have been with us now.

He looked at me sadly and said, "Oh Sophia, here is the pain of the murderer."

He said this as he pointed to his chest to the left and threw his head on my shoulders in a collapse. I froze in place, not knowing what to do, but I found myself patting him on the back with consolation, an embrace I wished for and didn't know that when he did it, he would be in a moment of weakness looking for support.

I felt eyes peering at us, their sparkle shining in the dark, but I didn't recognize their owner. As soon as I looked on that side, the person vanished into the night.

The mourning days passed, and I felt that my mother treated me differently, but I attributed the reason to the fact that she was still sad about Lucia's death.

Days and weeks passed, and the distance between me and Nicolai shrank, so the relationship between us took on the character of friendship. So we went out together to fish, and we spent a lot of time in the woods hanging out. and the dealings between us became smoother. The spark of love inside me was extinguished, and what I had for him turned into another feeling.

One night, after finishing my shift guarding the pack, my father burst into my tent. He waved his hand at me, roaring, "There you are! There's a deficit in Treasury funds, the first such incident in our pack."

"And when? On the guard shift, the commander's daughter herself! I want an explanation! Where did that money vanish?" He added, his eyes blazing with anger.

Before I could say a word, my mother entered the tent, with Maria right behind her. Maria pointed a finger at me accusingly, saying, "I saw her sneak into her tent during the guard shift. She held a cloth bag, clutched like a thief's loot. She must have hidden it somewhere here."

My dad pounced on me, clenching my locks of hair hard, saying angrily from between his gripped lips, his eyes raging with hellish rage, "Is what Maria says true?!"

As soon as I looked at Maria's face, I knew that a trap had been Set tightly and that someone had put the money here to trap me. Certainly. Maria is the one who did it. But why did she do that?

Taking a deep breath, I knew my protestations wouldn't erase the doubt already sown: "She's a liar; I only left my guard shift to relieve myself; it was once, and I never went to my tent."

You said it's the first time there has been theft from the vaults, but it's not my first time on a guard shift.

Something is wrong. If I wanted to embezzle, would it be on the same night I was guarding?!

I think no one stupid would do that.

He loosened his grip on my hair, and hope came within me.

But the chameleon quickly said sarcastically, "An elaborate representation in which you rely on playing on feelings of fatherhood, but commander, if the members of the pack know that you tolerated your daughter, chaos will prevail and a coup will spread. We trust in your justice and that you will punish the thief."

Then, she looked at me again and said with a grudge, "The difference in this incident is money. If it's found here, there's no doubt she's the perpetrator."

The ashes caught fire, and my father called the guards, instructing them to search the tent. No sooner had he finished speaking than they turned the tent upside down.

After a few minutes, one of the guards shouted, "Look, sir! I found this bag under the mattress with money inside."

My dad grabbed my arms tightly as he dragged me behind him in a humiliating manner out of the tent, coinciding with a gloating smile on Maria's face.

My dad shouted forcefully, "There are laws that have been put in place since ancient times that criminalize theft in our pack, and everyone is aware of them. And I will not tolerate their application, even if the thief is my daughter."

I looked at my mother, begging her to intervene, but she hung her head down in shame. Even my friend Nikolai did not dare to oppose the leader. I turned my gaze to my father and begged him, Please, Father, believe me. I did not do this. I am not a thief. Why should I do this when I am the daughter of Commander Wilson?

He shouted angrily. "Shut up, you thief; I don't want to hear your voice again."

He said this while slapping me in the face with his broad palm. Then he issued an order to the guards, saying, "Throw her in prison."