Gabriella’s P.O.V

I kept my gaze low, feigning just the right amount of remorse, my fingers interlaced over my lap like some scolded child who was simply trying to do the right thing by speaking up. I could feel Madam Synclair’s eyes drilling into me, as if trying to see if I was speaking the truth, but the damage had already been done.

“My God,” she whispered, looking as if the walls of her perfect world had just crumbled. Her delicate fingers trembled as she reached for ...