"Tsk, tsk. Should've made sure you rotted in that cell a few more years. At least then you wouldn't be out here embarrassing yourself."
I smiled. It was the kind of smile that carried no warmth at all.
"Toby, I think those words suit you a lot better than they suit me."
"Or have the good times lasted so long that you've forgotten what it was like, crawling through garbage heaps looking for scraps?"
Toby had grown up in the slums.
He was thirteen when I found him.
Dressed in rags, hunched over a pile of trash, picking through it for something to eat.
I handed him the rest of my bread.
He snatched it and crammed it into his mouth in two bites, barely chewing.
I turned to leave.
But Toby dropped to his knees and grabbed the leg of my pants, clinging to it with both hands.
I felt sorry for him. So I took him home.
I paid for everything, all the way through college.
After he graduated, I got him a position at the company as Fay's personal assistant.
I never imagined that one moment of compassion would be the very thing that dragged me into hell.
A wolf is a wolf. No amount of kindness will tame it.
The person I'd given everything to was the same person who buried the knife deepest in my back.