I typed my number into Elsie’s pristine, sapphire-blue phone with fingers that were still slightly trembling. Mara Collins, my mind whispered. But on the screen, under the name slot, I typed: Liz Monroe.
I handed it back with a practiced, elegant smile that felt like it was held together by scotch tape. “There. Now you can stalk me properly.”
Elsie giggled, clutching the phone to her chest like a prized possession. “Perfect! I’ll text you tonight. We are going to have so much fun, Liz. Seriously, when Amber said you looked sketchy, I told her she was just being a total brat. You’re literally so sweet.”
My smile stiffened. Amber said I looked sketchy. "Oh, Amber," I forced a soft, airy laugh, swirling the foam in my latte. "Some people just aren't used to seeing new faces, I suppose."
"
