Amelia Johnson raised a brow, her whole expression lazy but not lacking authority. Her half-lidded eyes, sharp and captivating, carried just the right hint of sass.
Her voice, casual with a teasing edge, held no real warmth.
"Miss Mitchell, that dramatic kneel of yours nearly made the floor shake. So committed. Fine, I’ll let it go this time."
Then, her gaze turned ice-cold in a second. "But if it happens again, be ready to have a chat with the cops."
Zoey Mitchell froze, her nerves clearly rattled. She gave a stiff nod, like her neck wouldn’t move properly.
"Alright, you can get up now," Amelia said lazily, flicking her fingers as if waving off a servant in an old costume drama.
Zoey wanted to get up—she really did—but her legs had gone numb. She wobbled a bit, then gl
