Quit-2
Elias At Fox's words, the woman’s eyes bulge. She’s in her fifties, bad bleach-blonde hair, thick makeup, purple lipstick, and a too-tight suit squeezing rolls around her middle. “Who the hell is this brat?” she snaps, looking at Fox. Louise stands by the desk, clutching a sheet of paper. “Fox,” she whispers. “Go wait outside.” Fox doesn’t move. He glances at me. I give him the tiniest nod. He lifts his little sneaker and gives the desk a hard kick. All of a sudden, papers, pens, files, and a calculator go flying everywhere. The woman shrieks and scoots her chair back until it bangs the wall. I smile. I really like this kid. “Be nice to my big sis!” Fox shouts. “Who do you think you are, you little—” But when I step into the room her voice dies. Her eyes dart between me and Fox.
- Writer
