Megan kicked at one of the boxes in her way. She lowered her head as she recalled their earlier conversation in the car. She replied distractedly, “Yay, that's great. We'll take one each, then.”
Donna's excitement was a far cry from Megan's depressed state.
Eventually, Donna seemed to notice that something was amiss. She turned around and spied a somber Megan partially hidden behind the stacks of boxes that filled their room.
She gave her brand new smartphone one last admiring gaze before placing it down. She approached Megan warily. “Megan, what's wrong? Is there something weighing on your mind? What happened yesterday? Did Mr. Wilson do something?”
“No,” Megan answered solemnly as she plonked herself down on the sofa. Her gaze landed briefly on a smartphone box containing the latest iPhone 4.
Turning her head away, she rested her head in her hands. After some thought, she blurted, “There was a small incident last night when we were singing. Melissa drugged my drink.”
Time had not dampened her recollection of Anderson's words last night. She could clearly recall how he had told her about Melissa's admission of her plans to drug Megan.
Even if she were to chalk up all the previous incidents to pure coincidence, last night was definitely Melissa's selfish plot for revenge.
She wants to do Mr. Whittemore a favor by offering me as a tribute.
Cracks began to appear in Megans calm facade. If Mr. Whittemore had slept with me, I'd be haunted by this memory forever.
Though nothing had happened in the end, Megan could not forgive Melissa's attempt at manipulating her. I'll make her pay.
“What? Melissa drugged your drink?” Donna's eyes widened with shock and anger. Melissa's audacity had far exceeded her wildest imaginations.
“Who does she think she is?”
Donna was infuriated. She could not bear to imagine how Megan felt last night.
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