Isis frowned. Her lips drew together in a tight snarl. It seemed, however, to just egg them on. Amby still stood in arms-crossed-grimacing position. Tate kept on laughing. Her long, golden brown hair pushed neatly behind her shoulders.
“No wonder your mom ran away,” Tate said her sing-song voice biting through the silence filled hallway. Her large cat-like eyes narrowed into an evil grin.
“Yeah,” Amby added mimicking Tate’s tone, “After giving birth to a retard like you.”
Their words stung. Isis bit her tongue trying to ignore them. Maybe the would go away. She didn’t retaliate or shout. She didn’t even glare at them. She just stared hopelessly at her shoes.