Chapter 60

Ophelia

An hour later, and I was ready to strangle each and every one of Lucille’s friends. If one could even call them that.

Mrs. Samuels, an older woman who would’ve appeared elegant if not for the perpetual sneer on her face, continued to ask me for every nutritional fact for every dish placed in front of her. After the fifth time, I started lying.

“This honey braised Atlantic Bluefin is sugar and fat free? How delightful!”

I smiled until my cheeks ached, barely holding back the urge to roll my eyes. We were werewolves, for crying out loud! What did the sugar content in a baked fish matter?

Mrs. Denmark, who sat to the left of Lucille, prodded her fish with her fork. She by far looked the youngest of the bunch, her dark skin free of any wrinkles. The only creases on her face were around her eyes, telling me she either smiled or scowled a lot.

I was willing to bet it was the latter.

“When was this fish caught?” She sniffed, “I only eat seafood if it’s been captured the same day.”

I