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... ipped the steering wheel so tight my knuckles went white. Every red light was a personal insult. Every slow car in front of me was an obstacle designed specifically to prolong my humiliation.
That bitch.
That absolute, insufferable BITCH.
"Mommy?" My daughter’s voice came from the backseat. Whiny. Annoying. "Why did you make me say sorry? I didn’t do anything wrong."
"Shut up, Vivian."
"But she’s just a human-smellerâ€""
"I SAID SHUT UP!"
T ...
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