Anthea was waiting near her car. She leaned against the driver's door with her arms crossed. When Vessara stepped out of the house, Anthea lifted her hand to wave. But she stopped the wave midway.
She noticed how Vessara looked. And how she walked.
Vessara wore a dark pair of sunglasses. The clothes on her body were too big for her frame. A black hoodie was pulled over her head, and her hands were tucked into the front pocket. The sweatpants hung past her hips, longer than her ankles, brushing the floor. She walked with a slight limp. Each step seemed careful, measured.
Anthea knew this version of Vessara. She had seen it so many times. She had been around long enough to notice the patterns. Vessara only showed up looking like that after being punished.
