Subsequently, her gaze landed upon the four travel containers aligned in the center of the reception area.
She went motionless.
Her visage transitioned through approximately five distinct sentiments in three seconds.
Disorientation. Verification. Panic. Resentment.
“I didn’t know you were coming by.”
And ultimately, the primary phases of comprehension that she had aggravated the incorrect maternal ancestor.
“What’s… what’s going on?”
I executed an additional taste of brewed leaves. “Karma’s going on!”
That was the instance Lydia comprehended something had shifted, and she no longer held command.
She sprinted upstairs.
I detected her storage panels impact open, compartments being snatched, steps pounding like an alarmed animal.
Then she came descending the stairs rapidly, visage crimson, utterance piercing.
“Karma’s going on!”
“WHERE are my things?!”
“Locked up,” I stated pleasantly, indicating the travel containers like I was showcasing rewards on a broadcasting exhibition. “You can earn them back. Or you can leave with whatever dignity you haven’t already ruined.”
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