“Sorry about him,” I added, my voice still rough as we stepped back onto the street. He gave a stiff shrug, keeping his eyes averted. “Used to it. I don’t care.” But his posture was tense, and I could tell he wanted to get away from the bar as he started walking down the street. I caught up with him, still quietly seething. Did literally everyone treat Moth like that? Just immediately treat him like shit?
