"Who are you?" Brewster decided that I wasn't exiting the hospital gracefully so turned on Rachel. She didn't speak, choosing to be creepy and brandishing a wallet instead. I kept forgetting that most full-blooded Amazons had minimal socialization with outsiders. Having graduated elementary school, everyone else knew this was a bizarre reaction.
"Rachel Louis," Brewster read off the license in the wallet. A normal person would have acknowledged that somehow - not Rachel. "You are Rachel Louis, aren't you?"
"Yes, she is," I intervened. "Rachel is a co-worker at Havenstone and she is misanthropic misandrist."
There was a pregnant pause. The confusion wasn't with 'misanthropic'. It was a grown-up word in usage with colorful police-types. It was 'misandrist' that had them stumped.
"Rachel
