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... " he said after a beat, his tone sharp with disbelief.

Frida scoffed, folding her arms tightly. "You better be joking!" she snapped, her voice trembling with suppressed anger.

"What do you want me to say, Frida?" Laz asked, his calm demeanor in stark contrast to her rising frustration. He sank onto the bed, resting his elbows on his knees, his gray eyes studying her intently.

"The truth," she whispered, denial threading through her voice.

"The truth?" he repeated, ...

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Extreme beauties were a little silly.

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