Completely forgetting why I was in this mess in the first place, I dropped to my knees and reached for the scaled structure. “I’m so sorry. Really, can I do—” “Don’t touch it!” yelled the same guy who had spoken a second before as he slapped my hand away—actually slapped it. Surprised, I cradled it against my chest. He hadn’t hurt me or anything, but, I couldn’t even remember the last time my mom had slapped my hand away for trying to steal food from the table.
