The scalding liquid splashing onto the floor drew sharp gasps from the people nearby.
Megan swiftly dodged, but a few drops still stained the pristine white of her shirt. Her eyes narrowed, that usual fox-like glint now carrying a flash of irritation and a hint of something cold.
She tossed her backpack into the startled arms of the intern at the reception. "Hold this for me. I've got a stray mutt to deal with."
Then she spun around and walked off.
The flamboyant receptionist burst into mocking laughter. "Look at her! What a coward. Left her bag and ran off."
Right then, she saw Megan say something to an old man leaning on a cane across the hall… and the next second, Megan was striding back with that cane in her hand.
The receptionist's smug smile froze. "Wait—what are
