Chapter One Hundred and Seventy Seven

CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND SEVENTY SEVEN

Sarah’s voice is cold as ice and I hear the acute disappointment in it. 

She walks from the trees, her form rigid and her eyes icy, “What exactly am I, Peter?”

I see Peter freeze before a false sense of bravado fills him, “Don’t overreact, Sarah. I’m just-“

“Overreact?” There is a cool sense of authority in Sarah’s voice which fills me with pride. “Am I screaming?”

Peter’s face stiffens and I choose to answer, almost gleeful, “No.”

“Am I crying? Or throwing a fit?”

When Peter doesn’t reply, she quietly asks, “Lucas?”

“I don’t see any of that.”

My rely makes Peter’s face twist in irritation and I add, eager to throw fuel on the fire, “I don’t think you’re overreacting.”

Peter immediately glowers at me, “This has nothing to do with you. So, shut your-“

“I asked him,” Sarah says, coldly. “I’m disgusted by you. I called you a friend.”