He'd heard it from his so-called 'friends' — how smart Ruby had become. How they all regretted laughing at her, saying she was too ordinary to stand out. Now they whispered about her robes – famous even in the City now– her raincoats selling out before the drizzle even touched the streets. He wore one himself, though he'd never admit it out loud. It was warm and didn't make him itch like the old scratchy ones.
Louis wiped his mouth with the back of his fat hand, leaning back smugly. If Milo dies… maybe she'll finally see how good I am. How rich I am. How much better off she'd be. He didn't see his mother's sharp eyes narrow at him, the tips of her claws tapping harder against her teacup.
She sipped her tea, her lips twisting in that same cruel smile, as the rain outside fell heavier against the window.
****
Six hours.
