The cafe had old hut vibes, with music from outside lingering inside. The campfire's golden light fell short of warming the sharpness on Aveline's face.
The delicious smell of roasted beans failed to grab anyone's attention. Instead, they could smell the hostility in the air.
Water droplets rolled down Seraphina's face, soaking her warm layer of clothing. But she was frozen, unmoving. When she opened her eyes, the water droplets rolled down her cheek, and her eyes looked maliciously at Aveline.
She said through her teeth, "You are no saint."
Aveline snickered upon hearing it. 'Saint?' She was, but people weren't letting her be kind and well-behaved. "You have no idea what I have been through to be standing here alive."
People thought of her as privileged. Yes, she was, but she wasn't immune to life's problems. Her standing there, being alive, was already her stand against her fate.
