Annette shoved her brother’s hand away, even though he had just finished wiping the red wine off her face with a handkerchief. Her expression was warped with rage, lips trembling with suppressed fury. Her eyes locked on Macy like heat-seeking missiles, burning with a hatred that made Macy’s skin pickle with total unease and wariness.
It made Macy happy to see her so clearly enraged. It was no where close to what she wanted to do to her but it would have to be okay for now.
Macy inhaled deeply. She braced herself for impact. This would not end with just a splash of wine.
“Annette, my poor daughter,” Annette’s mother swooped in with theatrical concern, her voice trembling in pitch-perfect outrage. “Are you okay now, darling?”
“Yes, Mom,” Annette snapped without even glancing at her. Her
