o_18vdqvms01tdp1ck54q91frg17mg2d.pdf

"Coddle?" I asked. This woman had never coddled me in her life. I couldn't believe she even
knew the word.
"I wouldn't expect you to understand. From what I hear, you don't really know what 'duty' is."
"I know exactly what it is," I retorted. My voice was intentionally haughty. "Better than most
people."
Her eyes widened in a sort of mock surprise. I used that sarcastic look on a lot of people and
didn't appreciate having it directed toward me. "Oh really? Where were you for the last two
years?"
"Where were you for the last five?" I demanded. "Would you have known I was gone if
someone hadn't told you?"
"Don't turn this back on me. I was away because I had to be. You were away so you could go
shopping and stay up late."
My hurt and embarrassment morphed into pure fury. Apparently, I was never going to live
down the consequences of running away with Lissa.
"You have no idea why I left," I said, my voice's volume rising. "And you have no right to
make assumptions about my life when you don't know anything about it."
"I've read reports about what happened. You had reason for concern, but you acted incorrectly."
Her words were formal and crisp. She could have been teaching one of my classes. "You should
have gone to others for help."
"There was no one I could go to—not when I didn't have hard proof. Besides, we've been
learning that we're supposed to think independently."
"Yes," she replied. "Emphasis on learning. Something you missed out on for two years. You're
hardly in a position to lecture me about guardian protocol."
I wound up in arguments all the time; something in my nature made that inevitable. So I was
used to defending myself and having insults slammed at me. I had a tough skin. But somehow,
around her—in the brief times I had been around her—I always felt like I was three years old.