She’d grown to expect it. Sooner or later, everyone asked. No, that wasn’t precisely true. Sooner or later, everyone who didn’t know better, asked.
“So, what are you, anyway?” She turned to Daniel and stared at him. “What am I?”
“You know,” he said, running his finger up and down his face. “Your looks, where do they come from?”
It made her angry. It always made her angry. In fact, it might never stop making her angry. [You're taking baby steps. It always had made her angry, and it always would. Same thing in one sentence. ] She almost felt bad afterward. But why did it matter? [Can't tell if she's wondering why it matters to them what she looks like, or why it matters to her that they ask. I'd delete the sentence. In fact, I'd delete this whole paragraph. It interrupts the dialogue to provide information we can infer from the dialogue.] Why did everyone always want to know?
“I don’t know, actually.”
He looked puzzled. “You don’t know? But...?”
She looked him straight in the eye. “No, I don’t.”
“Oh. I’m sorry. I mean, I’m really sorry, I didn’t know that you were...” He looked to her for help.
She raised her eyebrow. Waited. Shook her head a little.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
She shrugged and walked away.
It would be a great opening/continuation if she shrugged and flew away, and turned out to be a parrot. Dialogue: not bad. Other stuff: not needed.