MAYA

Isabella stopped dead in her tracks, standing directly in front of my chair. All the smugness was gone. In its place was a look of anger—narrowed eyes and a mouth pulled into a thin, ugly line. Near the table, the guard’s eyes flickered with hesitation. He knew I was right; one mark on me meant he wouldn’t just lose his job—he’d lose everything.

The scent of her expensive perfume, a smell I’d grown to hate, hit me as she leaned in. Her face was only inches from mine, the sweet fragrance feeling completely out of place in the damp room. She wanted me to see that she wasn't afraid...