The Sons I Traded for an Empire
Atticus emerged with his backpack, and the two of them walked past me — not shrinking, but not lingering either.
I was a piece of furniture in their path.
When the door closed behind them, I stood, my legs hollow.
My shield of wealth was useless here; I would have to strip it away entirely if I ever wanted to cross the gap.
“I understand,” I rasped, turning to go.
“I know I have no rights.
But I won’t give up.
I’ll learn how to wait.” Coraline didn’t answer.