“Do you think you’re that important?” the actress said in a condescending tone.
That made Dalila slow down and stop in her tracks.
The two were now at the corner of Dalila’s house, amid the shops located at the subway exit, surrounded by street vendors and food stalls. The smell of fried food permeated the air. Her stomach growled, reminding her that she had forgotten to eat lunch amid all that chaos.
Cristina looked uncomfortable, glancing around, wrinkling her nose at the reality of what life was like for the working class in the city. She was just like Joice, just like all the rich people who had made her feel unworthy her whole life.
And she was tired of belittling herself because of them.
“Why wouldn’t I be important?” Dalila asked, confronting her. “I found a powerful grimoire,
