I silently curse Eros because he knows what he is doing. He is playing with me, like a cat plays with a mouse. He says something to pull more information from another, and back and forth they go. Only I am not a house cat, much less a mouse.
“Oh, I have something for you,” he says, letting me go. Eros reaches into a bag beside him, pulling out a small golden baby blanket.
“If you hurt my mother, I’ll kill you. I don’t care if the sun drops from the sky.”
Sorry I was so angry earlier. I just hate it when someone hurts my family, foster or blood.
