Nefretiri
"Nefra, I know you're angry, but this is crazy!" Ivan followed me down the hall, talking to me like a cornered animal.
Perfect, caution was necessary with me.
"I'm not happy with you," I turn on my heel, glaring at him. We'd been having the same argument all the way here, but it was finally reaching its crescendo. "You should've told me last night!"
"And what?" He crossed his arms, refusing to give in. "There's nothing you could've done. Peter's got him walking already. He'll be fine by tomorrow."
"That's not the point!" Didn't he get it? "Greg got hurt because bullies decided he was an excellent target, and no one's done anything! How is that alright?"
"It's not, but coming in here guns blazing isn't helping either."
I knew that, but I felt helpless.
"You should've told me!" I insisted, unable to let that go. "Not wait until after breakfast to mention it."
