She rummaged blindly against the car's leather, hoping Iris wasn't watching her from the front seat. Her hand touched the cold metal strap of her bag, and she pulled the bag toward her little by little so that the chain wouldn't clink. She unzipped it and felt for her phone, but it was gone. She wanted to scream in frustration—she was exhausted, and she'd wasted all that energy for nothing.
Fumbling around the inside of the bag, Catherine brushed something cold and metallic—her nail scissors. She pulled the scissors from the bag, hiding them in the palm of her hand.
"How do you know that Marco is being sent away tonight?" Catherine asked.
"I thought I told you to shut up," Iris said. "You should be grateful for what I'm doing—you get to spend your life with him after all."
"What is it with you and Blairs?" Catherine asked. "You all have such a hangup on Marco and me. How many times do I have to explain that I don't love him?"
