Olivia's POV
Without waiting for a second, I turned on my heels and stepped out of the bar.
Daisy followed behind me and forced me to pay attention to her by stepping in front of me, blocking my path.
Her expression was filled with anger and hatred; it was an ugly mix that made her petite face seem as though it had aged a few years. Her breath smells like alcohol, and although she hasn't said a word to me yet, I know that her words would be worse than her breath.
I'm already in a bad mood; I don't need any of this.
I groan and try to side-step Daisy, but she won't let me walk away.
The harshness in her eyes took away the image of the sad, broken woman I had seen in the bar, holding a drink. It seems as though that image was created entirely by my imagination, but I know
