The rest of the ride passed in quiet torment, my chest tight with rage and helplessness.
That night, Bianca announced she’d cooked dinner.
“I made something for everyone! Come eat with us!” she chirped, her tone sweet, as though that would make up for all the damage she’d done.
I was about to refuse when Troy gave me that look—the one that said if I didn’t play nice, I’d be the problem.
“Bianca apologized. She’s trying, Thalia. Don’t be immature. She’s just a kid.”
A kid who split my skull open. I forced myself to sit down. My hands clenched under the table, white-knuckled as I stared at the steaming bowl of soup she’d placed before me.
Bianca beamed at me. “Try it. I added a secret spice.”
I hesitated, staring at the soup. Then I took a sip, trying to swallow my disgust. Something tingled at the back of my throat. Then that tingling turned to a violent burning.
I dropped the spoon. My chest tightened, the air choking from my lungs. My throat swelled, panic rising like a tidal wave.
Shrimp. Tiny bits of shrimp. The cruelest betrayal. I looked at Bianca through blurred vision. Her face was frozen in mock horror.
“Oh my god. I didn’t know! I didn’t mean—”
Liar. She always knew. Always.