Sorry for Your Loss, It's Me, I'm the Loss novel Chapter 83

“Yvonne, who said you could wander around?” Gwen hurried over, but it was too late. Yvonne was already inside the office.

“Gwen, get her a cup of coffee,” Matthew ordered, his face dark as he shot Gwen a look that clearly blamed her for the lapse.

“Yes, of course, Mr. Gonzalez,” Gwen stammered, throwing a venomous glare at Yvonne before she left.

She returned moments later with a steaming cup of coffee and placed it on the table in front of Yvonne.

“Ms. Jones, your coffee,” Gwen said, but she didn’t leave. Instead, she stared intently at Yvonne, then at the cup.

A flood of memories washed over Yvonne. The original Yvonne had brought food for the staff out of kindness, but Gwen and the others had repaid her by smearing red ink on her chair and claiming she’d bled through her clothes, calling her disgusting. They had even put something in her water that made her violently ill.

Yvonne lifted the cup and held it to her nose. She couldn't identify what was in it, but the smell was definitely off.

“What’s that smell? It smells like piss. Gwen, did you pee in my coffee?”

“What—what are you talking about?!” Gwen’s face flushed crimson, her eyes betraying her guilt.

She had, in fact, mixed in some water from the toilet, but she’d never expected Yvonne to call her out so directly and crudely. The old Yvonne would have just shrunk away, too scared to say a word.

“If there’s nothing wrong with it, then you drink it,” Yvonne said, pushing the cup toward her.

Gwen froze.

Before Queena could finish her sentence, Yvonne snatched the cup and flung the remaining coffee directly at her face. Queena shrieked, instinctively covering her face. The foul-smelling, sticky liquid dripped down her hair and cheeks, leaving her a pathetic, weeping mess.

“Queena!” Matthew instinctively pulled her into a protective embrace, frantically dabbing at her face with tissues.

“Yvonne, you’ve gone too far!” he roared.

“It was just a joke,” Yvonne retorted with a smirk. “I’m young and don’t know any better. Surely you’re not going to hold it against me, sister?”

Queena continued to sob, acting as if she’d been doused with acid instead of coffee. Matthew held her tenderly, glaring daggers at Yvonne.