Hazel felt it—something was about to go down. The air was thick with tension, and every instinct told her to brace herself.
However... if she were to back down now, what would people think of her? Weak? Afraid? No. That wasn't her. One thing Wren had drilled into her time and time again about respect was this: "It is earned, not given." And she wasn't about to throw that lesson away.
Maybe this woman truly had mistaken her for someone else. Or maybe she was just the kind of person who thrived on conflict.
Either way, Hazel knew she didn't deserve to be treated like this. Whatever the misunderstanding, she was still a human being. She deserved at least a shred of decency.
The woman standing in front of her, though, had a presence that was almost suffocating—bold, aggressive, unrelenting. Hazel took a breath and slowly raised her head, studying the woman's face with quiet defiance.
