The room filled with laughter and chatter, as the time flew by.
As the workday ended, someone called out, “Kelly, your brother’s here to pick you up!”
George was a striking figure. He was one of the youngest officers in the compound. His presence always drew attention, no matter where he went.
Kelly stepped outside and saw him sitting in the driver’s seat of his car with one hand casually resting on the steering wheel. The backseat was piled with trendy fabrics and tins of cream.
Once, this had been their routine. George would show up with the latest treats and gifts. He would say they were for her. However, ever since Amanda entered the picture, those gestures had stopped. He even stopped picking her up.
When he finally did, he just took a quick look at her and turned his face away.
"Get in the car," George said. "I'll take you to the art unit."
Kelly frowned in confusion. "Why are we going to the art troupe?"
George's brow furrowed tightly. "Well, you've pushed Amanda yesterday and today you've stained her performance dress. Kelly, don’t you think you owe her an apology?"
His accusation left Kelly stunned. "I didn’t push her, nor did I stain her dress. Don’t you dare frame me!"