Rose’s POV
Margaret leaned heavily against me, her breath reeking of cheap wine as we stumbled toward the casino’s exit. Her unsteady feet dragged, her weight forcing me to practically carry her as we moved.
“Let’s go, Margaret,” I hissed through clenched teeth, the humiliation from her behavior boiling over.
She giggled, a loud and uncoordinated sound that drew stares from nearby tables. “What’s your rush, Rosie? The party’s just getting started!”
“You’re drunk,” I snapped. “And you’re done.”
“Drunk?” she said, feigning shock as she swung her free arm wide, narrowly missing a passing server. “I’m celebrating, my dear! That’s not the same thing.”
My cheeks burned as people whispered and stared, their judgment sinking into me like knives. “Stop talking,” I muttered under my breath.
B
