Her dad caught her arm as she passed him. “Apologize, Ayn,” he said, not letting go. His voice was quiet but firm.
Ayn clenched her jaw and turned enough so she faced the iron-haired woman whose lips curled in the faintest of smiles.
A burst of heat rushed through Ayn’s chest. She’d only experienced that sensation once before, when the physician had told she and her dad that her mom would not be recovering from her illness. She’d hated the physician in that moment. She hated Lettie now. “I’m sorry, Lettie,” she said stiffly.
The iron-haired woman nodded her head and her dad let go of her arm.
“Come, Zoe,” Ayn said. The beastie fell into step beside her as she walked with deliberate steps back to their apartment. Once inside, where no one could see, she ran to the bathroom, locked the door, climbed into the shower cube with Zoe and tapped the icon for Mearzt.