“You have five minutes, young man.”
Idan ignored him.
He was crying.
“Grandma says you stole her necklace.”
Clara knelt.
“I know.”
“She’s lying.”
Clara looked sharply at him.
“Why do you say that?”
His expression changed.
For one instant, something uncertain flickered across his face.
Then he looked away.
“Because you wouldn’t.”
Clara placed both hands around his.
“Idan, listen to me. Do not fight with your family because of me.”
“But Dad should bring you home.”
“That isn’t your responsibility.”
He pulled a folded sheet of paper from his backpack.
“I made this.”
It was a drawing.
Four figures stood outside the Hamilton mansion.
Idan.
Adam.
Clara.
And Elena, drawn above them as an angel.
Underneath, Idan had written in crooked letters:
