Eva White wasn't buying the cautious approach. She puffed out her cheeks, her lower lip protruding in a pout of pure, unadulterated frustration. The heavy makeup she wore, designed to make her look like a hardened regular of the city's neon nightlife, smudged slightly at the corners of her eyes.
"And what exactly is that supposed to mean?" she demanded, her voice rising in a pitch of adolescent desperation. "You say this won't work, that won't work... I’m being suffocated by that woman! She’s turning my father against me, and you’re telling me to just sit tight? I’m going to lose my mind before you even come up with a plan."
Kristinav Johnson sighed, her expression softening as she looked at her niece. She reached out, placing a steadying hand on Eva’s shoulder. "This isn't a game, Eva.
