Samuel laid it out so convincingly that Effie demanded I strip on the spot for inspection.
I refused outright and pulled out my phone to call the police.
Samuel snatched it from my hand and smashed it on the ground.
"You say it isn't you? Then let someone check. Simple. Why all the resistance? Because you know you're guilty!"
I wasn't about to back down.
"Didn't do it. Period. You want me to strip over some baseless accusation? Fine—then I say you can't get it up."
"Why don't you drop your pants and prove it to everyone here?"
That shut Samuel up. Effie, though, was frowning hard.
She told me, "Samuel would never accuse someone without reason. If you say that underwear isn't yours, find a way to prove it."
"Or step inside and have a conversation with Brutus."
"I find that facing those fangs has a way of making liars honest."
Effie was boxing me in. Strip naked in front of everyone to prove my innocence—or climb into that cage and feed the dog.
The bodyguards had already closed in around me.
The moment I tried to run, they would swarm me, seize me, and stuff me into that cage—a wrongful corpse under the mastiff's claws.
I took a deep breath and made my choice right there.