The building looms in front of me, gray and stiff, smelling faintly of flowers and disinfectant even from outside. As soon as we step through the glass doors, the air changes. Conversations fall flat. Every head turns, every pair of eyes lands on us.
Judgment, shock, disgust, take your pick. I feel them all burning holes into me.
Mateo, unbothered as always, crooks his arm toward me with a grin that screams defiance. "Shall we?"
I slip my hand through the crook of his elbow, holding on tightly. My pulse steadies just from the warmth of his skin. Together, we walk further into the room, and I know we're making a scene. Good. Let them choke on it.
