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I don’t bother answering hi at my cuticles as he drives, both of us silent My hands are dry, irls I ho have perfect manicures and pedicures and I literally look like the still slightly ragged Cinderella who’s been finally pulled out of the base, beautiful princesses I ht shine but rub h relatively easy

I feel…less than when I’m at my new job And I don’t like that

“Nasty habit,” Colin says, breaking the thickening silence “You should go get your nails done”

Okay, that irritates the crap out of me His assumptions are rude “I can’t afford it”

“I’ll pay for it”

“Hell, no,” I practically snarl His offer irritates nores o see a hairstylist I’ll pay for that too There’s too ed”

The nerve This guy is such an assle Why did I agree to work for hiet the best of me, I just know it It’s led to two really stupid decisions already “Who are you? The fashion police?”

“No, but I’m your boss and at The District we have certain criteria that we need to etting”

“I saw your potential,” he said softly “Do you, Fable? Do you see it?”

I couldn’t answer him Because the truth wasn’t what he wanted to hear

No

Drew

I’hter load after my supreain? I’ll have toa few extra courses, but I don’t care Where else would I go?

Not home, that’s for damn sure

At least while I’et about my dad and Adele and what she told me I haven’t spoken to her since the last ti I barely talk towithwith him too, and I don’t push either What’s the point? Do I really want to find out what’s wrong?