Chapter Eleven
Missing … Eight Months Later
“Hi, my darling,” Zooey swooped into the diner looking like something from a Sci Fi novel. Her blonde hair was now streaked with purple, short and spiked, her nails chartreuse. She wore an orange leather collar around her throat—not meant to be bondage related, just decorative—a long purple skirt and a gold tunic with a deep cleavage between braless, unfettered breasts that swung against the delicate fabric showing two not-so-subtle n*****s poking through.
“Good God, what did you do to yourself?” Harper gasped.
Zooey gave her an enthusiastic hug and a wet kiss on the cheek. Pulling away, she sat down in the seat opposite Harper, only then gathering in her expansive aura. “You like the new me?” she asked.
Harper still looked at her aghast.
