I moved closer. “And who is it you’re pretending to be?” She glared. “More than white trash.” “White trash,” I repeated in as calm a voice as my anger allowed. “Who called you that?” “I’m the daughter of a junkie and a gambling addict. I am white trash. I’m not this.” She gestured at her reflection. “Nobody will ever call you white trash again, you hear? And if they do, tell me and I’ll rip their throats out. How about that?”
