_ You Will Be Married Off

What do I do?

My father exhaled sharply, clearly impatient. His boot tapped against the dirt. Tick, tick, tick.

"Well?"

I tore my gaze from the two men, my mouth suddenly dry. "W-what?"

Father's eyes narrowed. "Which one of these men was with you last night?"

I scratched my nape sheepishly. Oh, God. This was trouble in hell.

The only correct answer was neither.

But saying that? Admitting that my Mateo wasn't here?

It would make me look even guiltier.

I turned back to the two men, my heart pounding hard:

The tall one was glaring at me with hostility he failed to hide as though he didn't appreciate being entangled in a mess he knew nothing of.

Who would? His lips pressed into a hard line. Not him.

The short one was avoiding my gaze entirely, looking anywhere but at me. Also not him.

This was a nightmare.

I was trapped.

No answer I gave would be right.