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Summary
"Who are you?" The man asked, voice dripping with disdain. "Are you supposed to be the new help?" He said the word help like it was an insult. He said it with so much cruelty she was sure she wouldn't be able to hear it any other way.
Sera kept silent, focusing on evening her breaths, willing them to come out slow and measured. She stared at the boots in front of hers. They were scuffed and black, almost like they were covered in soot, and they looked a million times bigger than hers.
"Are you deaf? I'm speaking to you!"
His voice sounded loud in her ears, the words bouncing off the walls of the empty room. Her stomach turned, she was going to be sick.
or
Where our farmer Sera has trauma she's trying to forget and March's mean attitude makes her spiral.