There he was.
Ricard Alumonde, owner of Alumonde Augments. Mr. Vat Grown Steak himself. He slouched in booth number forty-three, waiting ever-so-patiently for her to greet him as if he hadn’t dropped a bomb into her life and then up and vanished.
The nerve he had to show up now. As if nothing had happened! Quakes trembled through her body, aftershocks which rumbled into her toes and fingertips. She clasped her hands, trying to keep the other customers from staring. Her hands were always shaking these days, as if she was permanently over-caffeinated.
Would she ever go back to normal?
That’s the point, isn’t it? I’ll never be the same again. Not since I took the Edit. And it was all his fault.
He’d ruined her life.
