The Ruined Bride of Velvet Nights by Brick Moving Ant

Chapter 58

  • Chapter 4

  • Someone immediately burst into laughter.

  • “Does she look like the type?

  • “Come on, Africa? She probably rarely even leaves her province!”

  • Even Jackson smirked faintly, shaking his head in disdain.

  • Sara squinted her eyes, a triumphant smile spreading across her face.

  • “Exactly, I asked the wrong person!

  • “I should’ve asked her which local market sells the cheapest vegetables or which brand of toilet cleaner works best!”

  • The table erupted in laughter again.

  • She, smug as ever, turned away and launched into another topic.

  • I slowly clenched my fists.

  • Something inside me was burning.

  • I thought, I must be drunk.

  • Otherwise, why would such a childish provocation anger me?

  • “I’ve been there.”

  • My voice was calm but firm, cutting through the noise at the table.

  • The laughter stopped abruptly.

  • Sara turned her head, momentarily stunned, before sneering, “What?”

  • “I’ve been to Africa.”

  • Chapter 4

  • flashed across her face, but she quickly

  • be so pretentious. If you haven’t been, just say so!

  • trouble.”

  • “I’m not lying.”

  • up. “Then tell us, where exactly did you

  • Or perhaps South Africa?”

  • stared at her steadily, my voice unwavering: “The Democratic Republic of

  • The air froze.

  • hesitantly, doubt thick

  • much to drink,” another laughed, “making

  • inside me flared even

  • wasn’t the only one there–there were

  • aid workers…

  • “normal people”

  • gaze across the table, speaking slowly and

  • I been there, but I lived there for an entire year.

  • fought over mineral resources, visited Ebola treatment centers, distributed relief supplies with

  • was even

  • fell over the table.

  • widened, staring at me

  • 09:22

  • Chapter 4

  • the wine in my glass, fixing my gaze on Sara as

  • “One more thing.

  • Mediterranean–they prefer tropical waters. The Camino de Santiago doesn’t start in Portugal; it stretches from France to Spain. And as

  • banned since

  • lips curling into a faint smile:

  • isn’t good. It’s so

  • face turned ghostly pale.

  • others exchanged confused and uncertain glances, their

  • suddenly shot to her feet, her voice rising

  • could she have been

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