Shirley bristled, her anger flaring.
âAndrew, how dare you? This is my motherâs party! How could you bring a lowly mixed-blood witch here? What message are you trying to send?â
Her high-pitched voice silenced the murmurs and music.
The room fell still.
Shirleyâs voice trembled, her breath quickening.
âAndrew, do you even remember what day it is Andrew ignored her question, his gaze flickering briefly before turning to me with concern.
âDebra, are you okay?â
âIâm fine,â I replied with a hesitant shake of my head.
âThank you for stepping in.
â
With so many eyes on us, the potential consequences of Andrewâs inaction were terrifying.
It was clear, though, that Shirley and I wouldâve become the subjects of ridicule.
If Andrew hadnât intervened, the witches would undoubtedly dissect the scene for days to come.
âThe clan leaderâs daughter and the mixed-blood witch vying for Andrewâs attention,â would become a headline.
âDonât worry.
Iâm just doing what Iâm supposed to,â Andrew said, seemingly unfazed.
In other words, he was prepared for this.
âWhatâs happening here?â Shirleyâs voice, dripping with renewed anger, echoed again.
Her beautiful features contorted with rage as she stormed towards me, grabbing my arm roughly.
âStay away from Andrew! Bitch!â
Shirleyâs actions darkened Andrewâs expression.
âShirley, enough!â he snapped, a frown creasing his forehead.
âNo!â Shirley stubbornly threw her head back.
Tension crackled in the air.
Onlookers watched, unwilling to get caught in the crossfire of Shirleyâs fury.
Mediating meant risking her wrath.
Then, a sharp female voice cut through the tension.
âShirley, thatâs enough.
â
The unmistakable click of heels announced the arrival of the speaker.
ALL conversation ceased.
Intrigued, I turned to see a regal woman.
Her features mirrored Shirleyâs but sharper, her gaze more piercing.
This had to be Veronica Harrison, the clan leader.
I studied her cautiously.
Shirleyâs mother? She appeared formidable.
Shirleyâs entire persona flipped in an instant.
Her defiant facade crumbled, replaced by desperation.
Pouting, she pointed at me, whining, âMom, it wasnât me! She started it!â
Debraâs POV:
Looking where Shirley glanced, Veronicaâs sharp eyes found me.
Her gaze was like a magnifying glass, studying me intensely, showing she held herself with power, making me feel a little uneasy.