I was told that this chapter might be distressing for some readers, so here is a trigger warning.
Two people occupied the private room of a restaurant, and though they seemed to be having a peaceful lunch, the tense atmosphere and the genuine hatred etched on their faces said otherwise. These two people were Marie and Harry, and it looked like Marie was about to kill someone, probably Harry, who was sitting across from her with her grip on the fork she held tightened so hard that her knuckles turned white.
"What did you say?" She questioned, her voice low and calm, but that made it sound all the more threatening to whoever heard her speak. Well, anyone but Harry, who seemed to be enjoying the hateful glare she was sending his way.
