Emily amused, glanced at them both for a while. "It's not worth arguing over," she said simply. "I'm fine with this."
Still, she felt uncomfortable. She may not have been involved in the upper circle, but she wasn't naive.
Something about the waiter's demeanor felt off—the way his expression flickered, the tension in his stance, his persuasion...
Something was wrong with him.
Emily took a cautious sip of the wine, her fingers tightening around the stem of the glass. The weight of the evening's events, the stares, and the whispers still pressed down on her, and maybe this wine might help her calm.
She glanced subtly at Mirabel. Something about her felt odd. Her thoughts spun;
Why do I find everyone I encounter oddly familiar?
Emilie, Brandon, and—
Now… Mirabel.
She sighed exasperatedly, glancing at the door. "Maybe I will leave when he returns."
