Zita 

“Quinn, I want to kill someone,”

The subtle sound of chewing came to an abrupt stop,the fork making a clang as it dropped next to the burger. Honestly, who ate burgers with cutlery? Only my best friend, apparently. 

My eyes flashed up to hers as she chewed slowly—almost painfully—before swallowing down. She watched me with dark eyes, leaning forward as she kept her voice low. “What’s wrong, Zita? You haven’t been in a good mood since you picked me at the airport, took me to the hotel, and now—”

I could feel my chest tighten, the tears that stung the back of my eyes as they closed briefly. “Do...