Vanessa
Paloma sprinted toward me, calling my name, "Vanessa! Vanessa! Wait, let me explain."
I stopped abruptly in the kitchen, trembling with anger as she caught up to me. "What are you going to explain? The fact that you lied to my face yesterday when I asked you about it?" My voice rose, sharp and cutting.
Paloma's face was a mix of regret and panic. Her eyes pleaded with me. "I'm sorry, Vanessa. I couldn't tell you about me and Anna, not when I was still figuring things out for myself."
The bustling kitchen had gone still. The chefs, cooks, and waitstaff had stopped what they were doing to watch us. We were making a scene, but I didn't care. The betrayal burned too hot.
"I don't care if you were confused!" I spat. "You should have told me! I've been an open book with you, Paloma, with everything. You're my best friend, and this is how you repay that trust?"
