Sam’s POV
“I can’t believe how you two girls are talking to one another. You used to be such good friends,” Drake said, stepping forward. Lily smiled as she believed it was me who was being scolded.
Zola was right. I wasn’t the Samantha everyone once knew—the kind, sweet girl who was eager to please and willing to forgive. I am Sam, an independent and headstrong survivor. I do not answer these people, nor should I be afraid of them. I embraced my inner Sasha, the smart-mouthed woman with whom I have been spending time, a woman who is not afraid to say what is on her mind. “It’s hard to be friends with someone who would literally stab you in the back to get into your mate’s pants. There is one slut in this vicinity, and I am looking right at her.” I said loudly enough for everyone
