She looked just as always but her stare at the window made me think. As I saw Ryan sat across from her. Charmaine.
Even after all these years, I hated the way she held herself. Back straight, chest thrust forward like her curves were some kind of crown, chin tilted up as if the world was beneath her. Her green eyes glinted like polished glass—shiny, but cold, empty.
Ryan didn’t waste words. He leaned back, cigarette smoke curling between them, his voice sharp. “You know why you’re here.”
Charmaine scoffed. That ugly laugh I remembered too well. “I know you’re wasting my time. I’ve done nothing wrong.”
Nothing wrong. My nails dug into my arms. Nothing wrong—and yet she’d been cutting me down with words since the day we met.
Ryan pressed. His voice was calm, but I knew that calm. It was
