I Am Mustafin
the officer stumbles over his own words, evidently realizing his mistake.
“Yes,” Efrem sighs, his tone clipped. “She is with me. Court’s orders.”
At least, he doesn’t refer to me as an ‘it’. Small mercies, I guess.
I roll my eyes, turning back to the officer. The change in his demeanor is almost comical. He's practically groveling as he lowers his head and says, “Of course, sir. My apologies.”
Not so tough now, are you?
A sly smirk plays on my lips as the officer steps back, waving us through. The windows roll up, and we're moving again.
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