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Jealous

"You wait here. I'll see Abi for a moment."

That was it. Moreau wasn't sure she had the right to just say one particular part. Her mother had a point when the woman began to walk away. Had been so close—now hugging the serious man from behind. Perhaps Abihirt's first-time reaction was surprise. Perhaps not. The man had instant anticipation and a tendency to give good reflexes. Most fair; it was necessary to surmise that her stepfather wasn't interested, or in fact, already was... so she caught Barbara as if to say something, then tendrils appeared as the woman dropped a light kiss on Abihirt's face.

A sight that instinctively made Moreau look for another angle to watch. She didn't know why she didn't want to witness the couple's togetherness there. It was too odd to imagine her like a thorny rose; nurtured by her mother—nourished by clear water, then turned into a piercing one.

Or should Moreau admit one thing she did last night, about her mistaken assumption about
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