Plain Threats. Alison Stone
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“Oh.” Samuel stared straight ahead, skepticism written on his face. “I’m going to bed.” He stomped up a few stairs before Rebecca called to him.
“Do you know anything about what happened here tonight?”
Samuel stopped without turning around. “How would I know? I wasn’t home.”
Rebecca caught the professor’s eye. Unease twisted her insides, worrying how far she’d push Samuel.
“You must be tired.”
Samuel nodded curtly. “Yah, I’m going upstairs.” Samuel continued his stomp up the stairs like a petulant child. When he reached his room, he hollered down the stairs. “Who was in my room?” He thudded down the stairs, his chest heaving.
“I was in your room.” Rebecca approached the bottom of the stairs. “Where did you get all that stuff?” The walls of the house seemed to sway as she waited for the answer.
Samuel pressed his lips together but didn’t say anything.
Rebecca worried about the consequences of talking in front of the professor, but she was overwhelmed. She couldn’t let this defiance from her son slide a minute longer. “Where did you get the money for a computer?”
A muscle ticked in Samuel’s jaw and suddenly he looked like a man. An angry man. “Stay out of my room,” he spat out.
“Samuel, your mother’s worried about you.” The professor moved next to her, making her feel like for once she wasn’t alone.
“You don’t have to worry.” Samuel ran upstairs and slammed the bedroom door.
Rebecca and the professor exchanged worried looks.
Samuel was definitely hiding something.
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