“I apologize. Allow me to help you clean your clothes.”

The girl eventually opted not to reveal the truth. She turned towards Millie, offering an apology.

Millie’s irate eyes shifted between the girl and Rosie.

“No, thank you. I’ll wash up.”

Before departing, Millie intentionally brushed against Rosie, spilling coffee on her.

“Ahi”

“Millie, stop!”

her pace, responding without glancing

adult well into your thirties, yet your behavior is remarkably juvenile. Treating others

her age

younger than Rosie. It was an inescapable truth

possessed a strikingly attractive countenance, an attribute that aroused both envy and jealousy

her attire. The dampness clung to her skin, generating a distinct sense of discomfort. Regrettably, her circumstances left her no alternative; without a

Millie’s return from the restroom, she found her seat occupied. Bruce sat there casually, toying with a pen from her desk, twirling it between

office discreetly cast occasional

Angela’s Library

defined

are you here?” Millie

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