Meanwhile...
"Who are you calling a deranged airhead?" Sheila flared, her emotions soaring.
"There's only one person who fits that description here. You." Karina responded just as fiercely.
"How dare you call me names? And what gave you the effrontery to touch my shirt? Do you know how much it costs? Even if you work your entire lifetime, you will not be able to afford it." Sheila raged, moving closer to Karina.
Apart from the name she was called, she couldn't stomach the fact that Karina grabbed onto her shirt and dragged her. There was nothing as embarrassing as that.
Just as she was about to raise her hand, Veron threw a bag at her feet, forcing her to pause her action.
Directing her gaze first to the bag, then to the one who threw it, confusion fought to overtake the rage in her heart.
It was the bag containing his jacket which she returned to him yesterday. Why did he bring it here, and why was he throwing it to her?
