Ruthless Hearts
Lynette groaned loud enough to rattle her spoon against the china.
By midmorning, the four of us were in the black car with the tinted windows. Mason sat beside me, too close, his shoulder warm against mine, while Lynette lounged across from us with her phone in hand. Dean sat beside her, posture stiff with his gaze fixed out the window as if the passing streets were more interesting than any of us in the car.
“You know, Liana,” Lynette began, scrolling lazily, “it’s remarkable how quickly you’ve adapted. A few weeks ago, you didn’t even know the difference between caviar and fish eggs. Now look at you. You’re almost… convincing.”
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