“You should believe me,” she announced, “because in order to destroy you, I need to acknowledge you first. See, in order to ruin a person’s life, you need to hate them. Be jealous of them. Feel some type of passionate response toward them. You stir nothing in me, Vaughn Spencer. Not even disgust. Not even pity, though I really should pity you. You’re the gum stuck to the bottom of my boots. You are a fleeting moment no one remembers – unremarkable, unnecessary, and utterly forgettable.”
