I continued for effect. "And that thing with the pigs on your father's estate? You think that was some kind of witch's work? No, María José. That was them. Rosa and her lover."
Her face went pale, and her hands began to shake slightly as she set the mug down on the counter. "That's a lie," she muttered, almost to herself. "That's not true. The traces of dark magic proved that it was the work of a witch."
"Maybe you're right. Maybe it was a witch. But what if it was done by Rosa and her lover? What if they were the ones who butchered those pigs? What if they've been using magic to cover their tracks? What if Rosa's lover is a witch? What if your exemplary sister, the gem of the pack, is the one breaking the number one rule, associating with other supernaturals and even dating one of them?"
I watched as her face drained of color, her lips trembling as she tried to form a coherent thought. "No," she gasped, shaking her head vigorously.
