"Let's kill her." The crickets chirped, and the wind moved the leaves.
"Mila, let's kill her."
Allison suggested again, with a clear face, holding a glass of whiskey close to her lips. Her eyes stared blankly at the people dancing downstairs, far from the V.I.P. lounge where they sat.
"Wait," Peach tried to bite her lips so she wouldn't start laughing. "You mean Jaime fell, and Mila, like, crossed him, and what else?" Unable to hold her laugh, she threw her head back and laughed out loud.
The girl's laughter fueled her sibling's anger. Jaime threw a bottle of champagne at the wall, and it landed with a crash, with the red remnants soaking the wall.
"I still find it a little too hard to believe, though, that Mila was bold enough to even speak to the reporters. If you both didn't see her firsthand, I would be doubting. Though I still am," Peach sipped her pina colada and hummed.
