"Miss Vitale," she said softly, her voice laced with feigned concern, "you're leaving already? Did I say something wrong?"
Her eyes shimmered, almost as if she were genuinely apologetic.
"Let me apologize, okay?"
I didn't have the patience for this.
Didn't have the energy to play along with someone pretending to be all sweetness and innocence.
I pulled my hand back sharply, breaking free from her grip.
Just as I lowered my eyes to check my wrist, I saw it: thin red marks where her nails had dug in, one of them already starting to bead with blood.
Before I could even process it, everything happened in an instant.
Adriana suddenly lifted her own hand and swung it outward.
A loud smack echoed through the restaurant.
A little boy standing nearby was struck across the face.
His cry broke out immediately, sharp and piercing as he clutched his cheek, tears spilling down as he began sobbing uncontrollably. Two fingers hooked into the hem of his sweater, twisting the fabric tight, and he couldn't look up.