"Tell your little followers to disperse."
Sophie Sullivan's lips tightened, the fire in her eyes burning brighter. "They're here to protect me."
"'Fennie.' Thomas Shannon's voice was low, his eyes narrowed dangerously. 'My protection is all you need, understand?'"
He would protect her? This was probably the most ridiculous joke Sophie had heard all year. He would protect her? If he truly intended to protect her, he wouldn't have allowed Raina Bell to torment her. He wouldn't have let her be nearly strangled to death by Raina, and he certainly wouldn't have let Minimus Hart continually trip her up from the shadows, making her miserable. This time, he'd even allowed Old Mr. Standford to get into trouble again. All these incidents, one after another—there wasn't a single thing he'd handled well. His so-called "protection" was likely just empty words. If she took him seriously, she'd be more than just naive—she'd be a fool. Trust Thomas Shannon? She'd rather trust herself!
