"Scarlet" isn't mad

"I know who you are," Scarlet sighed. "I recognize a whore trying to look inconspicuous when I see one. Don't worry, it's not you I'm mad at."

That was actually a small relief. "I'm so sorry, I had no idea he would do something like that," Daisy said.

Scarlet shushed her quietly. The sound of the backyard barbecue was still going. She really was married, Daisy thought. She didn't feel like she could trust what Mr. Johnson had said about her.

"Honey," Scarlet yelled into the backyard. "My friend Stacy needs my help with something. I'll be back in a bit." If her husband answered, Daisy didn't hear it. Scarlet stepped out of the house with her keys in her hand.

"Who's Stacy?" Daisy asked.

"No one," said Scarlet. She had such a confident walk, like she was wearing heels even though she was only in sandals. "But he can't keep all my friends safe anyway. I would've given him your real name, but I don't know it."

Daisy blushed. "Daisy," she said.

"And I'm not Scarlet. The real name's Stacy. Greg knows that, but he refused to call me by it." Greg. Daisy didn't know a single person who was on a first name basis with Mr. Johnson. "We're going to the park. Come on."