Mr Trystell was not a bad man. He just had an unfortunate choice in children.
"What is this about, Noah, and why have you brought... Derinda, is it?" Mr Trystell looked vaguely in Dorothea's direction, bringing her into focus through his worn and faulty spectacles.
"Please, sir," started Dorothea. Noah jabbed her in the back with a filth encrusted finger nail.
"I'll handle this," he spat. "Dorothea Blenkinsop is a common thief. She stole this golden locket. Now I think she should be punished. Don't you, father?"
Whilst Mr Trystell was not a bad man, his weakness was gold. "Well, Noah. I think we should not jump to hasty conclusions. Perhaps if we were to keep this locket, a valuable little item I am sure, and Dorothea stays quiet about it, then I am sure all can be forgiven. What say you, girl?"
Dorothea saw her opportunity to avoid punishment and return to her station in the work house. But, surely it was wrong and made her a criminal to be complicit with the Trystells keeping someone else's locket?
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