Chapter 29

“Culture. Is. Not. A Costume.”

Tamyra clapped her hands to the beat of her words in front of the man’s face. He flinched at every clap. “Let me say it louder for those in the back: CULTURE. IS NOT. A FUCKING. COSTUME.”

The crowd nodded, thoughtfully. It was a shame, but it couldn’t be helped. The young man should have known better, and this was the result. A few of them had their phones out, recording as the young man stammered at the bring of tears.

Really? They were going to just let this kid get pilloried?

Devon bit down on his lip. Sure, his costume was gaudy, but that didn’t mean that he should get surrounded and berated like this. To make matter worse, not a single person in the crowd, or even the event organizers, were willing to do anything. Out in the corner of his eye, Devon saw one of the organizers—the same rail-thin young man from earlier—clutching his tablet for dear life, his eyes cast to the ground in secondhand shame.

“Now it’s your turn, appropriator. Say it wit
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