ELIZABETH HERALD
"What family?" I muttered. Then I smiled. "I'd rather be alone than with them, so it works out. But being drunk sure would make this evening more fun."
I picked up my water glass, which had been reduced to melting ice, and sipped what liquid was available. I would have drunk wine, but Gardenia had pulled her usual tricks so that I wasn't served alcohol. If she could have forbidden me from eating the Heralds' food, she would have. Evil Bitch was really into the whole "death by a thousand cuts," and she found tiny, horrible ways to inflict pain.
"Why hasn't anyone refilled your water?" asked my dinner companion.
"The same reason no one has offered me wine. The service at this end of the table is non-existent."
