Stephanie led her through the kitchen, staying a step ahead, tuning out Karen’s snide comments about “small-town establishments” and “backwoods kitchens.” She didn’t care—Karen could gloat all she wanted. Stephanie’s revenge would be worth enduring a few more jabs.
Karen took a triumphant spoonful of the sundae, oblivious to the ticking clock. But then, a deep honk sounded from outside, and her fork stopped mid-air. Her eyes snapped up, the smug look slipping off her face as she spotted the bus idling, ready to depart.