Mrs. Anne pulled in to the first empty parking spot she found at the school and turned off her car. Still gripping the steering wheel so hard that her knuckles turned white, she tried to calm herself down. But it was no use.
“Fucking prick,” she thought to herself as she checked her reflection in the rear view mirror.
Angrily, she got out of the car and started walking briskly to the entrance of the school, the click clack of her high heels echoing into the quiet night.
This was all her worthless husband’s fault, she thought to herself as she opened the main door. His and that brat of a step-daughter living under their roof.