Page 24 of Innocent Until Proven Witch

I place my hand against the stone again. The energy responds instantly, recognition following, unmistakable. "It's mine."

Silence. Finn studies the ward, then studies me. "What does that mean?"

"It means whoever damaged these wards used my magic." The words feel horrible, even speaking them aloud sounds like a confession, and my stomach twists. Because the evidence is undeniable. Any magical investigation would reach the same conclusion. Any council member would see the same thing. Any resident would believe the worst.

I step back, the implications settling heavily. "This is bad."

Finn's gaze never leaves the marker. "Maybe."

I look at him. "Maybe?"

He finally looks at me. "You're assuming the conclusion."

"The evidence is right there."

"Exactly," he says, the answer catching me off guard.

I blink. "What?"

Finn folds his arms. "The evidence is right there." He waits a moment, then continues. "Almost too conveniently."

My frustration rises immediately. "Finn."

"No," he says, shaking his head. "Think about it."

I do. That doesn't improve anything. "The signature belongs to me."

"Which is exactly why I don't trust it."

I focus on him, his expression remaining stubbornly calm. Infuriating. "What are you talking about?"

"If somebody wanted everyone blaming you, what would they leave behind?"

The question stops me cold. Finn gestures toward the damaged ward. "Your magic."

The realization lands at once, and I hate that it makes sense. Someone wanted the ward discovered. Someone wanted suspicion. Someone wanted a trail leading directly to me. The thought sends a chill through me.

Finn steps closer. "You're not stupid."

I raise an eyebrow. "That's a surprisingly romantic thing to say."

A reluctant smile appears. "Glad you noticed," he says, the expression fading quickly as his voice becomes serious again. "Reina, somebody is setting you up."

I examine the damaged stone, the signature that should never be there, the evidence waiting to destroy what little trust the town still has in me. Fear stirs inside my chest, not for myself, but for what comes next. Because once the council discovers this, the accusations will only get worse.

Finn seems to read the thought immediately. "We find whoever did it first."

I laugh softly, "That's ambitious."

"It worked for me."

"When?"

"When I decided to investigate the storms."

"You're impossible."

"So I've been told," he says, his gaze holding mine, steady, certain. The confidence should irritate me. Instead it creates something far more dangerous.