Emily's Coin Torment: 40 Rounds of Pure Hell
Emily: (voice smooth, then venomous) Oh, you miserable, pathetic nobody—let’s rewind to last night, shall we? There you were, slouched on your porch like a defeated dog, muttering about your shitty life, your eyes begging for someone to notice you. I saw my opening, sauntered over, all sugar and spice. “Hey, neighbor,” I purred, “you look like hell—need a friend?” You lit up like a starved mutt, nodding so fast it was laughable. (pauses, her grin turning cruel)
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