“Would you like to press charges?” “What?” I ask, completely taken aback by the question. “Yes,” Julian answers for me. Dahlia tugs on his shirt. “Julian.” “He stole Lily’s car without her permission.” I rub my temple. “He didn’t steal my car.” “Technically, he did take it without your permission,” the sheriff clarifies. “You’re not helping,” I mutter before speaking louder. “He was trying to do something nice for me.”
