Chapter 4

“What’s your problem?” I lunged forward instinctively, fury surging as juice dripped down my clothes—but an arm shot out and stopped me before I could reach her.

 

“You’re the problem,” the customer snapped back.

 

The disdain in her eyes was sharp and deliberate, as if she had been waiting for this moment. I didn’t recognize her at all—I was certain we’d never met—but the hatred she wore was unmistakable.

 

“You’re an eyesore,” she sneered, her lips curling in disgust.