Annabella ignored him, her sharp gaze locking onto Olive. "Hey," she said, her tone dripping with mock sweetness. "Get me a strawberry drink from the cafeteria. And be quick, five minutes, or you'll regret it."
"What the heck is this? Are you drunk or something?" Lucas asked, stepping protectively in front of Olive. His tone carried a mix of incredulity and disdain as he narrowed his eyes at Annabella.
Olive's mind raced, her chest tightening with an unsettling suspicion. Wait… Is Annabella the one behind the text message and video? Her stomach churned, fear and anger twisting together. No… this can't be happening. Fuck!
Annabella's mocking smile widened, completely ignoring Lucas's question. "I wasn't talking to you, Lucas. I'm talking to your little friend there, standing behind you," she said, dismissively gesturing toward Olive. Then, with an impatient roll of her eyes, she added, "Better hurry, sweetheart. I'm not known for my patience."
