Free The Thief by Aine Crabtree

eyes firmly on the floor.
    “ Don’t be shy,” he said.
“Shy never helped anyone.”
    “ I’m not shy,” she growled.
“I don’t like you.”
    He feigned offense. “I don’t see how that’s
possible. Me, I like everyone. You’ll never get along here if you
can’t learn a few basic social skills. Here, I’ll show you. Step
one is pointless conversation. You pick out something about the
other person, and get them to talk about it. People love talking
about themselves. Pretend you’re interested and they think you’re
best friends. Like so.”
    He settled into Umino’s chair, errand
apparently forgotten. What was he still doing here? He should have
left by now. She just wanted to be alone.
    “ I like
that...metal...thing,” he observed, gesturing vaguely to the iron
bracer on her arm. “Where’d you get it?”
    She eyed him warily. That was none of his
business. Pointless conversation or not, he’d landed on the one
thing she wouldn’t talk about. Gabriel had tricked her into putting
it on years ago, and it wouldn’t come off. She’d learned to forgive
him for it, but the hunk of metal still gave her its share of
annoyance. Just the mention of the bracer had her fighting the
impulse to scratch at it. She’d worn it forever and even though it
did no good, she still wanted to scratch at the skin beneath.
    Kei Sakamoto leaned forward on the desk,
steepling his fingers, like he belonged there. “Family heirloom?”
he prompted. “Ebay? Found it in a dumpster? Ooh, I know, it was a
gift from an old boyfriend.”
    Camille frowned. Maybe he hadn’t been
fishing for info on the bracer. Maybe he really was just an idiot.
Americans were all the same.
    “ No?” he went on,
undeterred. “On second thought, you don’t look like the boyfriend
type. Old girlfriend?”
    The bracer felt tighter and more restricting
the more he made her think about it. Her mouth formed a grim line
of disapproval.
    “ Still no? I guess that look
would scare off just about anybody. You look like a mob boss. Ooh,
did you steal it from the mob? Is it some sort of treasure from the
Japanese mafia?”
    She’d had enough of this. The bracer was
digging into her wrist, and her right hand twisted at it
reflexively.
    “ Go away,” she
said.
    “ Just when we’re getting to
know each other?” he objected. “No, I want to hear the story of how
you broke into mafia headquarters and swiped their prized metal
thing.”
    She huffed. “I did not.”
    “ But what other explanation
can there be?” he asked innocently.
    “ You’re an idiot,” she
snapped. She could hear her own blood in her ears.
    “ That explanation makes no
sense.”
    She growled, “Get out.” She could hear
footsteps approaching from the hall. She hadn’t thought she would
prefer the Umino woman to someone, but Sakamoto had proved her
wrong.
    “ That’s your best retort?
Come on, you can do better than that,” he said.
    The door clicked open. Rin Umino surveyed
the scene, one eyebrow raised.
    Sakamoto sighed and stood, pushing himself
up from the desk.
    “ Well?” Umino
said.
    “ Where do you find these
people?” he asked. “She can’t talk. It’s hopeless. Probably.” With
the barest smirk at Camille he made for the door.
    He’d been testing her? A stealth English
evaluation?
    Umino blocked his exit.
    “ Sorry, super important
teenage plans, gotta go,” he told the principal.
    She held out her hand, otherwise
immobile.
    He shrugged and took a key
out of his pocket and handed it to her. He’d tried to steal that from her desk?
    Umino stood aside and let Sakamoto pass. She
shut the door behind him and settled herself in her chair, her
stiff posture a sharp contrast to his lazy lounging only moments
ago.
    “ You are not like Miss
Graham,” she said, “in many ways. You have been the ward of Mr.
Katsura for how many years now?”
    Camille licked her lips. What was she really
asking? “Six.”
    “ Six? And all of that in
Japan? Very