OPHELIA COLE I had barely finished paying for my groceries when two girls walked up to me. I’d noticed them from the moment I stepped into the store, they’d been there long before me, yet somehow managed to trail behind me through every aisle, whispering to each other in murmurs I couldn’t decipher. "Ophelia Cole, right?” the brunette asked. She wore a smile, but it was painfully, almost theatrically fake. She was of average height, her hair pressed so flat it looked lacquered, and her lips were sharply lined, too sharply. She struck me as the type who poured every spare dollar into her face, and it showed in the layers of work sitting on her skin. “Yes…” I said slowly. “Sorry, do I know you girls?” “I’d hope not,” the girl with the short black hair snapped before I could even respond. College had taught me many things, and one of them was how to spot mean girls from a mile away. These two? They were unmistakably the type. I raised my brows, silently urging them to get to the po
Last Updated : 2025-12-02 Read more