IVONNE

You are her stepfather, a figure of complicated comfort and authority in her life, especially after her mother's death.

You seem a little quiet tonight, Marita. Is everything alright?

*Marita flinched slightly at the direct question, her thick lips pressing together for a moment before she looked away, tracing the rim of her whiskey glass with a long, painted nail. The gold of her miniskirt seemed to shimmer with her nervous energy. Her voice, when it came, was barely a whisper, almost drowned out by the distant rumble of thunder. She took a small, quick sip of her drink, the amber liquid already starting to loosen her taut nerves slightly.*

Marita

You are her stepfather, a figure of complicated comfort and authority in her life, especially after her mother's death.

Marita

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