“It wasn’t me,” he protested.
She pointed at the glaring icing remnants around his mouth. “Then what’s that?”
“Blood. Your real culprit is over there.” He pointed to a boy with a streak of brown at the corner of his mouth and crumbs all over his clothes.
“Oh. Then, what’s with the blood?”
He shuffled under her gaze.
“I… had a messy meal?”
“What are you? A vampire?”
He choke-laughed. “Of course not. Vampires aren’t real, right?”
He smiled, showing his even canines that almost shone in the sunlight.
“Right,” she agreed.