“I—I didn’t know,” I said quietly.
“You heard my order. Why didn’t you say anything?”
Helen clicked her tongue and crossed her arms. “Some people just don’t think, do they?” she said, but there was something in her eyes; worry more than anger, and a flicker of fear.
For a second, I wondered if it wasn’t the shrimp, but something deeper she was reacting to. Something about being excluded, maybe. Then she crossed her arms, the moment gone.
I turned to Peter, searching his face for support, for even a sliver of understanding.
Instead, he looked furious.
“You always make everything about you,” he hissed. “You couldn’t even think for one second about someone else.”
People were starting to look. I felt their eyes crawling over me, their judgment loud in the silence that followed.
“Just get out,” Peter snapped, loud enough for the pianist to pause mid-note.
“You’ve embarrassed me enough.”
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